


Play

by hummerhouse



Series: Short Stories and Novellas [5]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Complete, Language, M/M, Turtlecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:32:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 52,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummerhouse/pseuds/hummerhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.<br/>Word Count: 52,928 Novella<br/>Summary: Master Splinter navigates the outside world to provide for his turtle tots and notices his youngest child's obsession with one of his brothers during the process.<br/>Overall Rating: Mature - contains Turtlecest<br/>Primary Pairing: Raph/Mikey</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            One of Michelangelo’s first memories was of Master Splinter and his robe.

            Mikey and his brothers were mere tykes at the time and of course anything that their Father did was fascinating to them.  They had spent the day following him through the sewers as he searched for things they could use in their constant struggle to survive.

            The four tots were crouched around an open manhole in an alley as Master Splinter searched through a dumpster in the warehouse district.  He did not like for them to be above ground, but he liked it less that they be out of his sight, even for a few minutes.

            Mikey held Raphael’s hand while they waited.  Raph was a bit larger than the rest of them even at that age, and Mikey always felt more secure when the emerald green skin was close to him.  Raph seemed to know that; he never picked on Mikey when his little brother was really frightened or insecure.

            Master Splinter was tossing old garments and rags into a pile near his adopted children.  These things would be put to good use as bedding material for them; warm, soft and dry it would also be a cushion for their shells, providing them with a more restful sleep.  Master Splinter needed for them to sleep better, if they could not sleep then neither could he.

            Mikey saw his Father suddenly pause in his search and then leap down from the dumpster gracefully.  A smile played across his furry face as he held up a brown robe; in excellent condition save for a large stain on the front of it.

            Master Splinter sniffed gingerly at the stain and then nodded; tucking the robe beneath his arm and gathering up the collection of cloth that he had just scrounged.

            When they reached the tunnel that served as their home, Master Splinter carefully placed the cloth so as to make a nest for his children and they quickly curled into it.  Mikey had never slept on anything so comfortable; he felt as though he were resting on air.

            The tot then noticed his Raphael was separated from him by his big brother Leonardo.  Crawling over Leo, Mikey wedged himself between those two, despite the mild protest at the disturbance and the fact that Mikey had stepped on one of Donny’s fingers while shifting.

            Their Father watched them with amusement, waiting for them to settle again.  Once he thought they were sleeping; Master Splinter brought out the robe and began to lick the stain.

            He could just taste a hint of the cleaning solution someone had used on the spot of grease that stained the robe.  Where the solution had failed, the wise rat’s saliva did not.  Soon the spot was gone; only a faint hint of slightly roughened cloth remained, and that was only visible in strong light.

            Standing, Master Splinter pulled the robe around himself and belted it tightly.  The fit was perfect and somehow the wearing of the garment made him feel much more secure in his role as Father and sensei to four adopted mutated turtle boys.

            Unbeknownst to Master Splinter, Michelangelo was still awake.  He had watched his Father clean the robe and then put it on.  He had seen his Father twist and turn as he practiced moving while wearing an article of clothing; something none of them had done up until then.

            The robe lifted the image of his Father a bit more in Mikey’s estimation.  People wore clothes and now their sensei had crossed the line into the world of the humans, and he had done it boldly, wearing a wide smile the entire time.

            Mikey sighed and wiggled up closer to Raph, wrapping one of his arms around his brother.  Raph stirred in his sleep, but didn’t push the blue eyed turtle away.  This was how they always slept; all four close together in a nest of a bed, with Mikey practically sharing the same space with Raph.

            Master Splinter looked them over and touched each one lightly, feeling for the breath moving through their small bodies and the sound of their gentle sleep.  He noted the position of the son he considered the youngest; not because of his actual age, which was completely unknown, but because of his demeanor within the family unit.

            Each of his children had already been placed into a hierarchy in Master Splinter’s mind, and he would begin grooming his children into their roles.  Leonardo would be the leader; this he already knew, and would therefore be referred to as the oldest brother.  Donatello was extremely inquisitive and intelligent, with a gentle, thoughtful nature.  Master Splinter determined that his role would be that of the second oldest.

            Raphael was a passionate and temperamental child.  Aggressive and impatient, he was also extremely protective of his siblings, with a determined strength of both body and character.  Master Splinter considered him the third oldest, but knew that his decision would be forever questioned by the son who in spite of his many gifts, was secretly a bit insecure.

            Michelangelo had already shown a desire to covet his youngest sibling title, beguiling his family into giving him the best of the scrounged food or playthings.  His penchant for playing pranks, even at such a young age, foretold of many hours of hurt feelings and arguments, but Master Splinter couldn’t have quashed the boy’s effervescent good humor even if he had wanted to.

            Master Splinter noted how Michelangelo clung to Raphael even while they slept, and the faintest hint of a frown touched his whiskers.  Perhaps he was seeing too much in a gesture that was probably done out of the need for a feeling of security, but Master Splinter sensed something more.

            Shaking his head, he walked over to his own small nest and relaxed into it for the night.  For now, he needed to worry about keeping his unusual family safe and healthy.  They would have to move soon; their current habitation was much too close to the humans above them, and they had twice recently dodged work crews inside the sewers.

            A new home, the mapping of tunnels and locations for reliable and consistent food were Master Splinter’s first priority.  Next he would begin teaching his children how to defend themselves, and how to avoid having to defend themselves.

            In a corner recess of his mind he tucked away his concern about Michelangelo’s small obsession with his brother Raphael.  There it would remain until Master Splinter saw or heard something that would make it necessary to escalate that concern to a higher level.

            For now, these turtles were mere tots trying to survive a cruel and unforgiving world.  Master Splinter would fight to the death so that his sons could live in it, and hopefully find some small measure of happiness despite that fact that they were the only ones of their kind.

TBC……


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 1,363  
> Rated: PG-13  
> Summary: Finding the perfect location to raise his sons, Master Splinter discovers the challenges and rewards of fatherhood.  
> ****Please note: Before you fuss at me about their first home being in an abandoned section of train, remember that my fandom is 2k3.

            Master Splinter discovered the space that would become their lair after exploring what had turned out to be a dead end in the sewer tunnel system.

            Turning to go back to the main section of tunnel, he noticed a thin seam in the brick work covering an opening in the wall.  Located on the right hand side of the tunnel, it was almost completely hidden, but something about it pulled at him.

            His sons watched as their Father set the edge of his hand on the seam and ran his hand from top to bottom.  Then Master Splinter lifted his head and scented the air before turning to look at his children.

            “Stand back over there,” Master Splinter said, pointing to the wall on the other side of the tunnel.

            “What did you find Father?” Tiny Donatello asked; his curious nature now in overdrive.

            “We will know in a moment,” Master Splinter answered and waited for his sons to do as they were told.

            When he saw that they were all safely pressed against the far wall, he turned back to the bricks.  His mind touched on the fact that Michelangelo was clinging to Raphael’s arm, his blue eyes wide, but then he turned his concentration back to the bricks.

            Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and then struck the bricks with his fist.

            His aim was perfect and the center section of bricks crumbled inwards, leaving most of the wall intact.  He heard a gasp from his children and smiled slightly.  Let them be impressed; that would help him when he began teaching them ninjitsu.

            Once the dust had cleared, Master Splinter stepped through the opening and looked around.  The space he had discovered was a long tunnel, bricked off at both ends.  Large pipes ran overhead and the area was dusty and full of cobwebs, telling him it was no longer in use or even necessary to whoever had charge of the sewer system.

            Turning back towards the opening he’d created, Master Splinter saw how he could arrange the bricks so that the wall would appear intact to the casual observer.  From the looks of things though, there would be no observers coming into this section of tunnel.  Exactly what he’d been searching for; a space to call home for he and his children.

            Stepping back through the opening, he smiled brightly when he saw how well-behaved his sons had been; none of them had moved from the spot he’d told them to stand in.

            “Come inside my children, and see our new lair,” he told them.

            Leonardo moved forward first, quickly followed by Donatello.  Raphael took a step and then looked down at Michelangelo, who was eyeing the hole in the bricks warily.  Raphael’s lip curled up slightly, and he reached to grab Michelangelo’s hand.

            Mikey turned his wide eyes up to Raph’s and squeezed the hand that gripped his own.  Holding onto his brother, Mikey walked into the space to join his Father and older brothers.

            “Much work will have to be done to make this space a good home for us,” Master Splinter explained to them.  “I expect that you all will assist me.  We must gather our things and bring them here, and then we must clean away the dirt.”

            “Yes Father,” three of his sons acknowledged simultaneously.

            Little Michelangelo wrinkled his beak and Master Splinter hid a smile.  His youngest was already showing his allergic reaction to hard work.

            “Clean?  That will take forever,” he complained in his youthful voice.

            Raphael wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said, “It’ll be fun, Mikey.  We can pretend we are looking for treasure.”

            “You’ll play with me?” Mikey asked; his hope filled eyes locked on Raph’s face.

            “Sure,” Raph answered.  “I like ta play with you.”

            The emerald skinned brother did in fact appear to enjoy spending his time with his little brother.  Several years passed and the youngsters spent their time between training, school work, gathering supplies and doing their chores.  Free time was for play; and though they had little in the way of toys, they immensely enjoyed what they did have.

            Donatello brought books home by the armload from their trips to the dumpsters.  Master Splinter had to examine each one before allowing any of his children to look at them; people threw out plenty of perfectly good books, but they also tossed things that were very inappropriate for small children.

            Many of the books were meant for children, and though Donatello gave those a cursory glance before turning his attention to more intellectual tomes, his brothers enjoyed the tales of Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty very much.

            Master Splinter helped them to understand the lessons that were buried within those books.  Raphael found other uses for the stories; he discovered that they were a great way to get his little brother moving when it came time to do chores.

            Handing Michelangelo a broom, Raphael told him, “You play Cinderella and you’re cleaning the house ‘cause your evil stepmom said you had ta.  I’m gonna be the prince that comes ta save you.”

            “And bring me my glass slipper?” Mikey asked with obvious delight.

            “Yeah.”  Raph produced a cardboard shoe box that he had scrounged on their last supply run.  “This is your slipper.  You start sweeping now.”

            “Okay,” Mikey said with a grin and began to diligently clean the floors.

            Master Splinter watched their game from his position on the mat he used when meditating.  He thought it was rather ingenious how Raphael managed to manipulate the youngest into doing his chores without raising a fuss, and realized that Raphael had a keen mind.

            That type of ingenuity would serve him well as he grew; the world above them was not a forgiving place.  Master Splinter knew he needed to find a way to encourage and bolster Raphael’s strengths.  He would have to work hard to make sure this son understood that his Father was as proud of him as any of the other children.

            For Master Splinter was already beginning to see the hurt that Raphael felt when Leonardo perfected a technique first, and the depression his third son felt when Donatello mastered a mental skill before any of the others.  Raphael would become gloomy even when his favored Michelangelo would skip through a workout routine without seeming effort.

            Even at seven, the emerald skinned turtle was beginning to question his place in the family and would sometimes sink into morose stupors.  Master Splinter would sit with him and attempt to draw him out, explaining gently that everyone was born with their own special skill, and that Raphael had his as well.

            His words did little to alleviate the little turtle’s feelings when Raphael was in one of those moods.  Try as he might, Master Splinter felt ill-equipped sometimes to deal with the little turtle’s anxieties.

            Raphael’s mood would often last until Michelangelo had enough of it.  Wanting his brother’s attention, the youngest would succeed at the one thing no one else in the family could; he had a way of getting Raphael up and moving.  Michelangelo would play a prank on him.

            True, the dark mood would be quickly replaced by one of anger and Michelangelo took many a pummeling as repayment for his efforts at cheering up his brother, but it worked every time.  When the anger subsided, Raphael was back to normal and Master Splinter breathed a sigh of relief.

            It was an interesting and somewhat symbiotic relationship that was growing between the two youngest.  On one hand, Master Splinter was pleased that they were so close to each other, but on the other he worried again that the dependency might become unhealthy.

            As always, all he could do was to watch them as they grew up, and help to steer them along the correct path in life.  Fatherhood was a much more challenging and difficult job than he could have ever imagined.

            It was also the most rewarding of his life, and he did not regret for one moment his decision to take on that responsibility.

TBC……


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,411  
> Rated: PG-13  
> Summary: Master Splinter works to find the correct balance in raising four sons of uniquely different personalities, while Mikey persuades Raph to go on an imagination ride.

            Master Splinter’s early insights into the character of each of his children proved to be hauntingly accurate.

            Leonardo was as determined, focused and mature as his Father knew he would be.  The eldest son mastered skills more quickly than the other boys due to his insistence on working until he had perfected each new form, each new kata.  He could not be dissuaded from his goals, nor could his concentration be broken no matter the effort put into such a task.  Michelangelo had tried often enough.

            This meant that Master Splinter needed to spend more time with Leonardo than he did with his other children.  Grooming his oldest to be a true leader required that commitment from their sensei.  Leonardo flourished under his Master’s tutelage; the young turtle was becoming the embodiment of the Bushido code and an expert practitioner in the art of ninjitsu.

            All of the boys wore the masks given to them by the Ancient One.  The colors chosen seemed to suit them appropriately.  The even tempered tranquility of his son Donatello was a perfect match for the purple color he sported; his personality was inherently spiritual and the depth of his intellect was beyond Master Splinter’s comprehension.

            Their Father found that he needed to stay up later at night after his children were in bed in order to read ahead in the books that he was using to teach his sons.  This was the only way he could find to have the answers to questions that little Donatello would toss at him in rapid fire succession.  The school work their Father assigned them was already divided into two categories; age appropriate work for three of them, and advanced work for Donatello.

            This intelligence had begun to be a great boon to their existence.  Donatello had scavenged a book on plumbing and then had gone out with his Father to gather the tools necessary to tap into one of the pipes that ran through their lair.  This provided the small family with running water and a large metal tub was installed soon after to give them clean bathing facilities.

            Michelangelo was his most vibrant child.  He was energetic, warm, and stimulating and quite the challenge to his Father.  His boundless enthusiasm made the introduction of new information a joy for Master Splinter, but he found that holding his child’s attention afterwards was difficult at best.

            That Michelangelo was naturally gifted with pure athletic skill made the teaching of martial arts both more and less difficult.  While the others struggled to push their bodies to perform, Michelangelo bounced circles around them.  This physical prowess made it hard for the youngest to focus on perfecting his technique, and Master Splinter was often hard pressed to get the child to maintain even a rudimentary level of concentration.

            Raphael was Master Splinter’s most conflicted child and the greatest challenge to the wisdom the sensei had spent all of the years of his life acquiring.

            His third son was passionate, agile, fast and unbelievably strong.  During sparring matches, it required all of Leonardo’s skill, Donatello’s mental prowess, and Michelangelo’s flexibility to stay out of Raphael’s clutches.  Because once the red banded turtle got his hands on any of the others, the fight was over.

            Despite his incredible abilities, Raphael found it difficult to believe he was good enough.  He didn’t want to be defined by physical strength alone; he was determined to prove to his Father that he had more value than that to his family.  No amount of words or reassurances could ease his son’s mind, and Raphael’s failures were often followed by aggressive and violent outbursts.

            Master Splinter attempted to teach the young turtle other avenues for venting his frustrations, and towards that end, he created the family’s first wooden practice dummy.  His memory recalled the one that his Master Yoshi practiced with, and Donatello’s ingenuity helped in its creation.  Raphael was immediately transfixed by the stationary object, and it became the red banded turtle’s primary outlet for dealing with his darker demons.

            Michelangelo spent hours simply watching his Raphael beat his arms against the wooden dummy.  He became his brother’s unofficial towel boy; hopping up to press the cloth into Raphael’s hands as soon as he stopped practicing.  Michelangelo even named the practice dummy; calling it “Raphie”.  Raphael seemed to find that amusing and grinned widely whenever his little brother referred to the wooden form as such.

            The closeness those two shared was not without pitfalls.  For the amount of time Michelangelo spent fawning over his brother in red, he spent an equal amount of time taunting him.

            Raphael in his turn could go from overly protective of the youngest, to being his greatest antagonist with alarming speed.  A lot of that was due to Michelangelo’s laid back attitude and the seemingly little effort he put into things that required all of Raphael’s concentration.  It became one of Raphael’s goals in life to sometimes drive his little brother to tears, whether from jealousy or from his own need to share hurt feelings, Master Splinter was never sure.

            One remembered instance of this was when Master Splinter had managed to acquire a box of crayons for his children.  Those crayons were like gold to the tots; they spent hours creating masterpieces for their Father and for each other.  Each child had a favorite color from that box, and not surprisingly that color matched the masks they wore.

            Raphael was continuously forcing Michelangelo to relinquish his cherished orange crayon.  The teasing that went on afterwards included Raphael’s promise to break it into small pieces, eat the crayon, or drop it into the racing sewer water.  All of those threats had the intended effect of causing Michelangelo to burst into tears and Master Splinter was forced to intervene on the youngest turtle’s behalf.

            Of course, tiny Michelangelo was not the pushover that the show of waterworks would make him appear.  Raphael was a sound sleeper, and his little brother took full advantage of that one evening.  With the stealth that he rarely let his Father see he had perfected, Michelangelo took his favorite orange crayon and proceeded to color his tormentors carapace.  The effort took over an hour and most of the crayon, but it was a hugely successful payback.

            A furious Raphael spent most of the next day chasing Michelangelo in an attempt to beat him up for the infraction, but Michelangelo bounced out of his grasp on numerous occasions.  With every escape, the youngest would tease his brother about his new and vastly improved shell color, thus infuriating the red banded turtle further.

            Since he couldn’t reach his own shell, Raphael’s attempts to clean the temporary color off of himself proved futile.  Master Splinter chose not to become involved and simply admonished Raphael that bullying carried consequences.  Leonardo and Donatello also refused to help Raphael out of his fix, and he was forced to sport that orange colored carapace for almost two weeks before the color wore off.

            Fortunately, Raphael was incapable of staying angry at his youngest sibling for very long.  Michelangelo’s good nature was ingratiating and his obvious devotion to Raphael was flattering.  That reverence actually had a positive effect on Raphael, making him feel as though he were the most important thing in the world to the youngest turtle.  And in fact, he was.

            “Raph,” Michelangelo called, looking up from the book he was reading.

            His brother sat nearby, lifting and lowering a set of weights that they had discovered at the junkyard.  Without looking up, he said, “What?”

            “Will you play ‘married’ with me?” Mikey asked, his eyes holding a dreamy expression.

            Raph continued to watch the muscles in his arm expand as he worked with the weights.

            “Dunno.  What is that?” Raph asked.

            Mikey rolled off of his plastron to sit up.  “You dress up in fancy clothes and say you’ll be together always and will never leave each other.”

            Raph shrugged, switching his attention to his other arm.  “Sounds kinda boring.  I ain’t gonna leave you guys ever anyway, so why do I need ta say that?”

            “Please Raphie, pretty please?” Mikey begged; his eyes wide and imploring.

            Raph finally looked up.  “Don’t call me Raphie, snot face.  That’s the name of the dummy.”

            Mikey hid his secret grin; half of the battle was getting Raphael’s attention.  “’Kay, I won’t call you that.  But will you play now?  I promise it won’t be boring.”  Lowering his voice a fraction, he said, “We have to go out to look for costumes.”

            That got Raph’s complete notice.  Going ‘out’ meant sneaking away from the lair to forage in the sewer tunnels, or even topside to dig in a dumpster on their own.  It was a strictly forbidden thing to do, but sometimes the adolescent turtles felt the need to break the rules.

            Setting the weight down, Raph asked, “Where’s Master Splinter?”

            Mikey’s face lit up with the excitement of a planned adventure.  “He and Leo went to gather some stuff from those storm drains we found.  They’ll probably be gone for a long time.  Donny’s got that ‘lectricity book and a whole bunch of broken gizmos he’s pulling apart.  He won’t even notice it when we leave.”

            Raph jumped up and reached for Mikey’s hand, pulling his younger brother to his feet.

            “Let’s go then, but you better remember ta keep your mouth shut about it,” Raph told him.

            Mikey slid two fingers across his lips to indicate his silence and the two brothers made their escape.

            They searched through the sewer tunnels for a little while before giving them up as a lost cause and deciding to venture topside.  It was still daylight out, but the sun was dropping and long shadows cast their protective darkness over sections of the alley the two turtles surfaced in.

            A long row of dumpsters made Mikey rub his hands together in anticipation, and he delved into the first one in the row, while Raph tackled the second.

            “What am I supposed ta be looking for?” Raph asked, his voice muffled by the metal walls surrounding him.

            “Something I can put on my head for a veil,” Mikey said.  “Not like a hat, but a big piece of cloth or something.  And you need a jacket or a coat, ‘cause you’re the groom.”

            “Dress up is silly,” Raph muttered as he banged around in the dumpster.  “Why did I let you talk me into this?”

            Mikey giggled but didn’t answer.  He was used to Raph’s griping whenever they played any kind of game.  Raph might gripe and moan about it, but Mikey could always count on him to play.

            The first two dumpsters proved unprofitable, but Mikey struck pay dirt in the third.  Hopping out of it with a triumphant cry, he displayed his find; a slightly stained white shower curtain.

            “You’re gonna wear that?” Raph asked, his brow knitting together in puzzlement.

            “Sure.  Watch this,” Mikey proclaimed.

            Taking a section of the plastic between his hands, he pushed it against the jagged edge of metal protruding from the sides of one of the dumpsters, punching a small hole in the material.  Sticking his fingers through the hole, he pulled to enlarge the opening and then swung the curtain behind himself before placing the torn part on top of his head.

            Striking a pose, he announced, “Ta da!”

            Raph started laughing at the sight and Mikey was soon laughing with him.  Calming finally, Raph said, “You’ve got the best imagination of all of us.”

            Mikey was smiling hugely.  “Yeah, I do.  Come on, we still gotta find you a wedding coat.”

            It took another quarter of an hour before they found something suitable.  The jacket was filthy and covered in stains, but it was large enough to fit over Raph’s carapace.

            Wrinkling his beak in disgust, Raph said, “It smells like those guys who always sleep in the alleys.”

            Mikey grabbed his arm and began pulling him back towards the sewer entrance.  “Doesn’t matter, you don’t have to wear it very long.”

            Back in the safety of the underground, Mikey lead Raph to a short drainage tunnel that was close to their home.  Carefully putting on his ‘veil’, Mikey helped Raph don the jacket and nodded happily when they were both ready.

            “So now what are we supposed ta do?” Raph asked, waiting for Mikey to finish explaining his game.

            “Now I say, ‘I take you Raphael to be my husband forever and ever’,” Mikey said, intoning his lines with utmost solemnity.  “You say the same, but call me wife.”

            Raph scratched the back of his neck, beginning to feel foolish, but did as he was told.

            “I take you Michelangelo ta be my wife forever and ever,” he said dutifully.

            Mikey grabbed his hands and leaned forward, pressing against his brother’s plastron.  His eyes closed, Mikey’s lips were puckered up as he tilted his head towards Raphael.

            “What are you doing now?” Raph asked gruffly, grossed out by Mikey’s actions.

            “You have to kiss me to seal the deal,” Mikey explained and resumed his pose.

            “That’s stupid,” Raph told him firmly.

            Mikey’s mouth shifted into a pout, his eyes becoming both sad and imploring. 

            “You said you would play,” he reminded Raph with just the tiniest quiver in his voice.

            “Don’t you whine,” Raph warned him, edging towards panic.  He hated it when Mikey whined.  “I’m gonna do it, okay?  Just don’t whine.”

            Mikey’s mouth slid back into a smile, then he moved forward again, his lips ready for a kiss.  Raph’s head dipped down quickly and he pecked Mikey’s lips with his own, yanking his head back after the briefest of contacts.

            “Now we’re married,” Mikey told him jubilantly.

            “Whatever,” Raph snorted.  “Can I take this yucky thing off now?”

            Mikey happily helped Raph divest himself of the nasty jacket, and he also left his makeshift ‘veil’ behind before they made their way back home.

            They found an angry Master Splinter awaiting them.  Neither admitted to a trip topside, but they both reeked of their excursion into the dumpsters and after a long, hot bath they were sent to bed without dinner.

            Curling next to Raph in their bed, Mikey didn’t care at all about the promised punishment that they would be subjected to the following day.  All he could think about was that it was another thing he would get to share with his ‘husband’.

TBC…….


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 1,898  
> Rated: PG-13  
> Summary: As the four boys continue to grow, Master Splinter finds he must make some life altering decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sweet little preview picture, a recreation of what Mikey drew in this chapter, was created by KillyKillerKilly on DeviantArt, for whom this story was written.  
> 

            Maturity found Master Splinter’s children much sooner than it found human children.

            It was not a stranger whose path happened by chance upon them, but a guest welcomed through the door their Father opened wide.  Master Splinter would have been overjoyed to ignore the necessities of their life and allow the small mutant turtles to remain children for as long as possible, but their very existence depended on them making the transition into adulthood at a greatly accelerated rate.

            To that end he began to place a greater emphasis on their ninjitsu training; not just the physical aspects, but the mental ones as well.  He taught them to explore inside of themselves and to seek out the parts that made them stronger, while denying those that did not.  Free time was radically diminished by the addition of a minimum of two hours daily meditation.

            Leonardo thrived on the opportunity to strengthen his spirit and often exceeded the minimum allocation of time.  His Father found it greatly rewarding to join his oldest son in meditation, enjoying the ritual lighting of incense and candles as much as the act of releasing his mind to wander the cosmos.

            Donatello had the most natural gift for meditation; his mind being vastly superior to everyone else’s in the lair, he had no difficulty transcending his physical body.  His purple banded son was the first to touch his thoughts to those of his sensei, much to Master Splinter’s delight.

            However, Donatello had other pursuits that called to him, and other necessities that required all of his available time.  Since those pursuits led to the betterment of their existence and their overall safety, Master Splinter refrained from chastising his second son over missed meditation.

            Master Splinter had to remind Raphael about the required meditation period every day and every day Raphael grumbled about having to do it.  But once he had settled into his lotus position, the third son managed to find the tranquility required to ease his own mind.  Oftentimes, it was the only tranquility his red banded son found; his fluidly shifting emotions frequently left the child puzzled and impatient.

            Leonardo used his meditation time to question himself and review decisions.  Donatello used the time to quiet his mind and organize his thoughts.  Raphael used his meditation time to steady his raging needs and his impatience with his lot in life.

            Michelangelo, however, found meditation a difficult task master at best and a mild form of torture at the very least.  While Donatello’s mind made lists of projects and mentally completed each in a systemized fashion, Michelangelo’s mind bounced around much the same as his body did in practice.

            Trying to capture and pin down his youngest son’s racing thoughts was a tiring endeavor.  Michelangelo’s mind wandered.  There was really no other way to look at the issue.  Master Splinter finally came to understand that out of all of his children, Michelangelo might actually be the one who was the least in need of the soul searching that meditation required.

            Michelangelo understood things on a level that would have surprised Freud.  He had the most amazing insight into character and motives; even better than Leonardo’s, because the oldest child learned from lessons and the youngest had simply been born with the gift.

            Master Splinter wondered if this insight was the reason behind Michelangelo’s devotion to his hot headed brother.  Perhaps that devotion was nothing more than an understanding of Raphael’s inner turmoil and an instinctive need to soothe his brother.

            After the dumpster diving incident, Master Splinter kept a closer eye on his two youngest children.  Neither one of them would tell him the reason for their excursion, other than to say they were playing, but it was easy enough to see that Michelangelo had instigated the trip topside.  Raph was, of course, an extremely willing accomplice.

            During this time period, Master Splinter created a daily routine for his family in order to give them something as close to basic social norms as possible.  They rose early in the morning for practice, had regular meals, meditation, chores, school and then some free time before bed. 

            To replicate a twenty-four hour day, Master Splinter lit numerous candles throughout their home and kept them lit during the twelve hours he called ‘day’.  When ‘night’ fell, he would extinguish all but a few of the candles.  In a few years, Donatello would master electricity and they would have modern lights and appliances, but in these early years, candles were an integral part of everything they did.

            A chore his children were required to perform was breaking up the wax stubs of the used candles that Master Splinter found in numerous supply inside dumpsters and trash bins.  Their Father would melt the remnants in order to form new candles.  Fire was not a difficulty; finding lost disposable lighters was almost a daily occurrence.

            One evening as the children sat quietly playing together, Michelangelo jumped up and began to scrounge around in the small cardboard box that had the name “Raphael” affixed to its side in large letters.  Each boy had his own box of personal belongings, and the others were not allowed to touch it without permission.

            Raphael had exited the room only moments before in order to take care of some business, and the two oldest boys knew that he had not given Mikey permission to invade his box.

            “Mikey, you aren’t supposed to touch Raph’s things,” Leonardo admonished his younger sibling sternly.

            “It’s okay,” Mikey said, continuing his exploration of the box.  “Raph is my husband, I’m his wife and we share everything.”

            Master Splinter’s ears pricked up, but he remained silent as he listened in on the conversation.

            Young Donatello had not lifted his eyes from the book he was reading and did not bother to do it now as he said, “You can’t be a wife Mikey, you’re not a girl and Raph can’t be your husband because you’re brothers.”

            Raphael walked back in at that moment and caught sight of Mikey digging through his belongings.  Striding over quickly, he twisted a large piece of skin along Mikey’s neck between his fingers, making his little brother yelp in pain.

            “Where’d you get the idea it was okay ta get into my box, shell for brains?” Raph growled at him.

            “He says he’s your wife,” Leo answered for Mikey.

            “I am,” Mikey insisted, turning his blue eyes on Raphael.  “Don’t you remember?”

            Raph’s retort died on his lips when he noticed that his Father was observing them.  Arguing with his little brother about this would bring up the dumpster diving incident, and they were still keeping that a secret.

            “Yeah, it’s okay Mikey,” Raph said agreeably, releasing the painful grip that he still had on his brother’s neck.  “But you still have ta ask permission.  Everybody in a family has ta do that.”

            “They do?” Mikey asked, slipping back into his good humor quickly.  “Even husbands and wives?”

            “Especially those,” Raph told him.  “Otherwise they’d fight all the time.”

            “I don’t want to fight with you,” Mikey said, and then his face lit up as a thought crossed his mind.  “In my comics after Spidey had a fight with Mary Jane they kissed and made up.  We just had a fight, so you should kiss me.”

            “It ain’t the same thing,” Raph said darkly, “and I ain’t kissing you.”

            Leonardo and Donatello were now watching them avidly, waiting to see which of the brightly banded siblings would explode first.  Mikey’s bottom lip was inching outwards and Raphael’s golden eyes were beginning to spark.

            Master Splinter stood up and cleared his throat, capturing all four of his children’s attention and interrupting an almost certain emotional outburst.

            “My sons, I believe it is time to adjust your sleeping arrangements,” he announced in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

            “Adjust them how Master Splinter?” Donatello asked, closing his book on a finger to mark his place.

            “You are all old enough to have your own beds,” Master Splinter told them, the idea he’d had for several days congealing into a solid decision.  “Tonight we will separate the bedding material into four individual parts.  We do not have the space to allow each of you to have your own room, but we will break your current bedroom into four areas and you will all be assigned to one of them.”

            “But I don’t want to sleep alone,” Michelangelo said immediately.

            “You won’t be alone Mikey,” Leo said.  “We’ll all be right next to you, just not in the same bed anymore.”

            It was easy to see that the idea had caught on with three of his children; however, Michelangelo was plainly unhappy with the decision.

            The change was put into place that evening, in spite of Michelangelo’s continued protest.  During the entire conversion process, the orange banded turtle could be heard muttering under his breath about husbands and wives sleeping together. 

            Each time that refrain slipped from Michelangelo’s mouth, Master Splinter knew he was doing the right thing by separating the brothers.

            When it was time to turn in, the family stood and looked over the changes they’d made.  Four individual rectangular spaces had been created within the large bedroom area.  Each held a bed, a private property box and any other item considered to belong to the boy who would occupy the ‘room’.

            All of his children, save for Michelangelo, excitedly crawled into their own beds for the night.  The youngest had spent the last few minutes before lights out with paper and crayons, hurriedly scribbling with an artistic fervor.

            Sitting in the middle of his bed, Michelangelo studied his drawing intently, nodding to himself as he did so.  Blowing out the candles that would darken the room for sleep, Master Splinter watched his youngest son lay down in his bed and set his drawing on the floor nearby. 

            Turning onto his side so he could see Raphael, Michelangelo reached out in an attempt to make contact, but was thwarted by the distance between the sleeping spaces.  He finally gave up with a frustrated sigh, and instead rested his fingers on the drawing he’d made.

            A half hour later, after all four boys had fallen asleep; Master Splinter silently kneeled next to Michelangelo’s bed and lifted his sons hand from the artwork.

            Holding it up so that candlelight would illuminate the drawing, Master Splinter studied what his youngest child had drawn.

            The picture was of a large bed with two turtles laying on it.  One half of the bed was orange; the other red.  Raphael lay on the orange section smiling at Michelangelo who occupied the red half.  Both had their arms twined around each other and the heading at the top of the paper said “Me and Raph’s room” in Michelangelo’s childlike handwriting.

            Master Splinter carefully returned the drawing to its original position and replaced Michelangelo’s fingers on top of it.  Stepping away from the bed, he tugged at his sleeves and drew a deep, cleansing breath.

            His fear that Michelangelo’s attachment to Raphael was becoming an obsession appeared to be a reality.  Master Splinter had taken the first step towards breaking what was quickly becoming an unhealthy bond, and tomorrow he would work on finding other ways to refocus Michelangelo’s attention.

            Master Splinter could only hope that he was not too late.

TBC……


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,483  
> Rated: PG-13  
> Summary: Master Splinter discusses the future with Michelangelo and Raphael.

            The first morning after Master Splinter arranged for his boys to sleep in individual beds he discovered that sometime during the night Michelangelo had crawled in with Raphael.

            Raphael had accepted his brother’s invasion into his bed without a sound, whether because he was sleeping too soundly to notice, or because he was used to sleeping that way Master Splinter did not know.  It was something the Father decided needed to be stopped before it could become a habit.

            After breakfast and morning practice, Master Splinter requested that Michelangelo join him in the alcove that was used as their Father’s private space.  Usually, the only time any of them were called to that spot for a private discussion it was because of some infraction to the rules.

            With his head down, Michelangelo trudged behind his Father, reviewing in his mind everything that had happened during the morning and finding nothing he’d done to warrant being pulled aside.

            Passing his brothers, he heard a snicker from one of them, and then Don said in a low voice, “Ooh, Mikey’s in trouble again.”

            Since Master Splinter’s back was turned, Mikey took the opportunity to stick his tongue out at his purple banded brother, earning a yelp of laughter from his three siblings.

            Inside the alcove, Master Splinter waved towards the worn carpet remnant that served as a mat, and said, “Kneel my son.”

            Michelangelo was talking before his knees even touched the mat.  “Whatever happened was an accident I swear and it wasn’t my fault anyway, um ‘cause I probably didn’t do it.”

            Master Splinter lifted a palm to cut him off.  “I did not call you in here to speak of some misdeed Michelangelo.  I would like to discuss the new sleeping arrangement that was put into place last night.”

            “Oh,” Mikey said, relieved.  Then his brow furrowed in puzzlement.  “Why are you talking to just me about it?”

            His Father looked into the little one’s face for a moment and saw nothing to denote any sense of guilt.

            Feeling his way carefully, Master Splinter asked, “Why did you leave your bed during the night and crawl into bed with Raphael?”

            Michelangelo’s brow cleared.  “’Cause I was cold.  Raph is really, really warm.”

            Master Splinter nodded at the simple explanation.  “I see.  It appears that a supply run is necessary in order to acquire an additional blanket for your bed.  I understand that you are used to Raphael providing you warmth, but he cannot function as your blanket forever.”

            “Why not?” Mikey asked with a hint of a pout.  “He doesn’t care if I sleep with him, he said so.  Besides, we got married and I have to sleep with my husband.”

            Careful to put no undo emphasis on the question, Master Splinter asked, “Why did you feel the need to marry Raphael?”

            Michelangelo smiled.  “’Cause I love him and I want to be with him forever.”

            “He is your brother and loves you as well,” Master Splinter said.  “It is not necessary that you be husband and wife; you are already family.”

            “That’s not the same,” Mikey explained.  “Brothers punch each other and rub each other’s shells and dumb stuff like that.  If you have a husband then you can hug and kiss him.”

            Watching the young turtle’s face carefully, Master Splinter asked, “Do you feel the need to hug and kiss your other two brothers as well?”

            “Nah,” Mikey said, wrinkling his beak slightly in disgust.  “They’re kinda yucky and boring.  Raph is different; Raph needs me.”

            “We all need each other,” Master Splinter said, hoping to correct Michelangelo’s thinking.  “We are a family, Michelangelo, and we must support one another equally.  It is not your responsibility to take care of Raphael.”

            Michelangelo shook his head, “Sure it is.  You guys don’t understand Raph like I do.  I gotta be his wife so he has someone he can talk to when he gets mad.”

            “My son,” Master Splinter said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Michelangelo’s shoulder, “this is an admirable quality that you have to be willing to comfort your brother when he is confused, but he cannot grow up properly if he is using your support as a crutch.  I know this will be a difficult transition for both of you, but I do not want to find the two of you in the same bed again.  Is that understood?”

            Michelangelo looked down at the floor, his lips pursed in vexation.  “Yes Master Splinter,” he answered grudgingly.

            “Very good,” Master Splinter stepped back.  “You may go now.  Please send Raphael in to see me.”

            Eyes wide, Michelangelo looked up quickly.  “You’re not gonna be mad at him are you, Master Splinter?  It wasn’t his fault that I climbed in his bed.”

            Master Splinter smiled slightly at his youngest son’s show of loyalty.  “No Michelangelo, I am not mad at either of you.  You are both learning to grow up and it is a hard thing to do.  There are bound to be growing pains in the process, and I would like to explain that to Raphael as well.”

            Michelangelo grinned and jumped to his feet.  “Okay.” 

            On his way out, the orange banded turtle stopped suddenly and turned around as a thought came to him.

            “You aren’t gonna tell him he can’t hug and kiss me, are you Master Splinter?” Mikey asked.

            “If Raphael wishes to give you a brotherly hug or a kiss on the cheek, I shall not interfere.  Please remember that he may feel that is much too childish a thing to do now that he is getting older.  You mustn’t become upset at his refusal, and you will have to learn to accept that those are not things older brothers wish to do Michelangelo.”

            “I suppose,” Mikey said with a huff.  “I don’t much like it though.”

            “Send Raphael in to me please,” Master Splinter reminded him.

            Mikey bowed and hopped out of the alcove, happy that he wasn’t in trouble.  Master Splinter’s words rolled off of his shell without phasing him; he knew that no matter what his Father said, Raph would still want to be his husband.

            “I’m not in trouble, bleh,” Mikey told Don, opening his mouth wide and displaying his tongue once more.

            “I’m so happy for you,” Don said without looking up from the architectural masterpiece he was creating with building blocks.

            “So what did he say?” Raph asked.  He was watching in wonder as Don skillfully arranged the blocks into an enormous tower.

            “He said I need another blanket,” Mikey told him, trying to figure out how much trouble he would get into if he pulled the bottom block out of the stack.

            “Don’t touch the blocks, Mikey,” Leo said from across the room.

            He was practicing his splits and hadn’t seemed to be looking at them, but still managed to read Mikey’s mind.  Mikey decided his older brother was a little scary.

            “Oh, and he wants to talk to you,” Mikey told Raph as an afterthought.

            Raph rolled his eyes and stood up.  “Great.  Wonder what I did wrong this time.”

            “Now you know how I feel dude,” Mikey said with a grin, plopping down near Don’s tower and making the purple banded turtle shoot him a warning look.

            “Dude?” Don asked as Raph left to visit Master Splinter.  “What kind of word is that?”

            “I heard a bunch of guys talking and one of them said that,” Mikey explained, tipping his head to one side as he studied the tower of blocks.  “They were getting off a bus that said it was from California.  I guess it’s another word for brother or friend, I dunno.  I like it though.”

            Raph heard no more of the conversation as he tapped on the wall to let Master Splinter know he’d arrived.

            “Come in my son and kneel,” Master Splinter said in a soft tone.

            The red banded turtle dropped to his knees without a word, his eyes firmly fixed downwards, his shoulders squared and his entire attitude denoting the expectancy for something bad to happen.

            The behavior was so diametrically opposite to that of his other son that Master Splinter had to ponder Michelangelo’s words on the role he played in Raphael’s life.  Perhaps the younger boy was serving as Raphael’s balance in some ways.

            However true that might be for now, it wasn’t something that could be allowed to continue unchecked.  The world was too cruel for any of his sons to be unable to stand on their own.

            “Raphael, did you notice it when Michelangelo climbed into bed with you last night?” Master Splinter asked him.

            Startled at the unexpected question, Raph glanced up.  “Sort of.  I didn’t think much about it ‘cause I’m so used ta him sleeping on me.”

            “Yes, he has formed a habit,” Master Splinter said, feeling his way carefully.  He did not want Raphael to think that there had been anything wrong with all those early years of sleeping together.

            “I don’t mind,” Raph said a little gruffly.  “It makes him feel safe and he don’t have nightmares when he’s sleeping next ta me.”

            “Doesn’t have nightmares,” Master Splinter corrected automatically.  “I understand why he needed you before Raphael, but now you are all getting older and Michelangelo must learn to be more independent.  If he continues to rely on you for his bravery, he will never become a ninja and he will never be able to function without leaning on you.”

            “I guess that’s a bad thing?” Raph asked carefully.

            “It is not bad that you make him feel safe,” Master Splinter hastily answered.  “In fact, I am very happy that you all make each other feel safe.  You must learn to become a team and assist each other.  My concern is that he will someday face a situation when none of you are around to back him up, and he will not know what to do because he has not been educated to stand on his own two feet.”

            “He could get hurt,” Raph said, understanding visible in his golden eyes.

            “Exactly,” Master Splinter said, almost sighing with relief.  “That is one of the reasons I gave you all separate beds.  You must help me to keep Michelangelo out of yours.  I have already spoken to him about this; but he may forget, especially if it is in the middle of the night.”

            “Okay,” Raph agreed.  “When he tries ta crawl in I’ll just shove him out.  He ain’t gonna like it much, but he’ll get the message after a couple of times.”

            “I am sure you can be firm without hurting his feelings,” Master Splinter said as he contemplated the phrasing of his next sentence.  “Raphael, can you explain why Michelangelo wants to call you ‘husband’ rather than ‘brother’?”

            A corner of Raphael’s mouth twitched.  He was happy to know that Mikey hadn’t tattled about their trip to the dumpster.

            “Didn’t Mikey tell you?” Raph asked, trying to find out exactly how much their Father did know.

            “That is not an answer,” Master Splinter replied quickly and with a stern voice.  He was pleased that Raphael was clever enough to attempt such a trick, but he could not let his children think it was advisable to use them on him.

            “Sorry sensei,” Raphael said.  “We were playing this dumb game of Mikey’s called ‘married’.  We had ta dress up in fancy clothes and say we’d be together forever.”

            Master Splinter watched a slightly reddish hue rise under the emerald skin on his son’s cheeks and knew he was purposely leaving out part of the story.

            “Does this explain your transgression in leaving the lair without my supervision?  Were you and Michelangelo in search of clothes for your game?”

            Raphael’s face grew darker, and Master Splinter knew he was on the right track.

            “Yes sensei,” Raph finally answered.

            “I see,” Master Splinter put his arms behind his back and studied his son.  “Michelangelo is very good at coming up with games to play but you should avoid allowing him to talk you into the kind that will lead to trouble.  Is that clear?”

            Raph nodded and said, “Yes sensei.  Is ‘married’ a bad game?”

            “No,” Master Splinter said softly, “but it is a game usually played by a boy and a girl, not two boys.  Humans play that game when they are much older.”

            “Okay,” Raph said, trying to understand.  “But what if there aren’t any girls like us Father?  Does that mean we never get to play that game?”

            For the first time, Master Splinter was faced with the contemplation of that part of his children’s future.  It caused him a great sadness when he realized that the answer to Raphael’s question was probably ‘yes’.

            “Let us worry about that when you are older, Raphael,” Master Splinter said.  “For now there are many  wonderful games you can play with Michelangelo and your other brothers.”

            Raph shrugged.  “That’s good I guess.  ‘Married’ was kind of a boring game anyway.”

            “Thank you for assisting me with Michelangelo’s training,” Master Splinter told him.  “You may go and play with your brothers now.”

            Raph stood up and bowed.  “Thank you Father.”

            After he left his Father’s presence, Raphael didn’t go all the way into the play area.  He stood just out of sight and watched his siblings.

            Leo was sitting across from Don and Mikey, handing Don wooden blocks as he built yet another creation.  Mikey was babbling about something as the other two worked, his endless speech finally making Leo look over at him.

            “Mikey, when you grow up you should become a samurai.  You have the agility of a warrior and they talk a lot more than ninjas do,” Leo told him.

            Mikey grinned.  “If you talk and talk and talk then the other guy will be like ‘I can’t take it anymore’ and kills himself.”

            Leo rolled his eyes.  “I’ve felt that way a few times myself.”

            Raphael chuckled at the exchange.  His Mikey was very different and he wished he could find a way to explain that to Master Splinter, but unlike his orange banded brother, he just didn’t have the words.

            He hoped that his Father’s instructions to push Mikey away wouldn’t damage the relationship he had with his youngest sibling.  Raphael didn’t really want to change anything between the two of them, but Master Splinter was very wise, and if he said it had to be done, then Raph would do it.

            Taking a deep breath, he went in to join his brothers.  At his approach, Mikey looked up with sparkling blue eyes and a wide smile, making Raph’s heart do a backflip.

            For Raph, it seemed that Master Splinter had just asked him to do something much harder than he’d ever asked of the other boys.

            And it just didn’t seem fair.

TBC…….


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,275  
> Rated: PG-13  
> Summary: Raphael and Michelangelo each experience growing pains in an entirely different way.

            With the changes in their sleeping arrangements, and after Raph’s talk with Master Splinter, there came a shift in the amount of time each of the brothers spent together.  Raphael started to hang out with Leonardo a lot more often.

            For several nights after that talk, Michelangelo attempted to crawl into Raphael’s bed with him, and each attempt was met with a firm refusal.  Michelangelo let his displeasure be heard, but he dutifully crawled back into his own bed, muttering under his breath until he fell asleep.

            While Michelangelo seemed to take each dismissal in his stride, having to be the bearer of bad news bothered Raphael on a much deeper level.  Every time he was forced to endure the sad puppy eyes of his baby brother, Raph felt a stab of painful guilt.  Knowing he shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what was best for Mikey didn’t make the guilt go away, and _that_ started to make Raph angry.

            Being annoyed with Mikey wasn’t at all unusual; Raph had been growing up with Mike’s idiosyncrasies and was quite used to them.  His confusion stemmed from how furious he found himself becoming each time Michelangelo forced him to do something that turned up the volume on Raph’s guilt.

            Raph found that Leonardo gave him none of those feelings of guilt.  Leo was a perfectionist who refused to lean on anyone else for support, and everything they did together was a challenge to see which of them would come out on top.

            Beating Leo at anything was exhilarating, and the fact the Leo accepted defeat by trying harder the next time rather than griping about it gave Raph a rush of adrenaline that playing with Mikey did not.  Going up against his older brother, win or lose, did not ever include that horribly painful guilt.

            Master Splinter encouraged the change in playmates, thinking that Leonardo’s calm assurance would be a good counter-point to Raphael’s mercurial temperament. 

            He allowed the two boys a bit more freedom when they were together; more than he would have done otherwise.  This was because of his trust in Leonardo’s sound judgment and the knowledge that these two sons were already skilled fighters.

            Later in life he would come to second guess the way he had put them together; always stressing that Raphael must follow Leonardo’s lead, that Leonardo would be in charge.  That Leonardo had his Father’s trust.  To his older and wiser ears, he realized that his constant praise of the older son must have left the younger one feeling as though he had come up short in his Father’s estimation.

            At the time, Master Splinter did not see what his words were doing, and for that matter, neither did Raphael.  For Raph, being allowed to escape the confines of the lair, even to simply go hunting around in tunnels that he already knew like the back of his hand, was a blessed release.

            Being out meant he did not turn around to find his Father’s watchful gaze constantly on him, nor did he have to see the longing and sometimes worshipful looks sent his way by his kid brother.

            It also helped him deal with his own strange feeling of loss.  Raph didn’t understand why the simple act of turning Mikey out of his bed could make him feel empty, nor did he understand why Mikey’s ‘married’ game with its hugging and kissing sometimes gave him butterflies in his belly.

            Raph tried not to worry too much about those things, trusting in Master Splinter’s judgment as to what the red banded turtle should do about Mikey’s clinging nature.  His Father had to be correct, because when Raphael looked at Leonardo in comparison, he saw the self-reliance that Mikey lacked.

            He also began to wonder if his willingness to serve as a buttress for the youngest turtle might have been behind Master Splinter’s decision to pronounce Leonardo the leader and eldest.  Raphael was certainly stronger and much more bold than Leo was; in fact in his opinion Leo had a tendency to hesitate and overthink situations when just taking care of business seemed to be the best option.

            It was that way of thinking that had Raph taking them into a closed off section of the sewer when it was his turn to play leader in their game of ‘follow the leader’.  Leo reminded him that Master Splinter had said the area was off limits, but Raph snapped at him that a good leader had to learn to think for himself.

            Instead of arguing further, Raph spun away with a shout of, “Catch me if you can!”

            The game was fun and exciting at first; Raph and Leo both sewer surfed with the boards that Raphael had broken to enter that section of the tunnel.  Leo was hard pressed to keep up, and Raph was feeling pretty cocky.

            That’s when he reached the dead end.  He didn’t think much about it except that he’d made a wrong turn somewhere, and just about the time he decided to go back, a giant albino alligator sprang up from a deep area of water.

            Raph leaped away from the creature and Leo caught up to him.  With a quick jump, Leo sprang over the gator’s tail, yelling “Let’s jet!”

            But Raph wasn’t finished playing leader.  He was determined to show Leo a thing or two and promptly tackled the gator.

            As usual, Leonardo was slightly aloof as Raph held on to the gator, who much like a bucking bronco, was taking Raph for the ride of his life.

            Folding his arms, Leo told him, “Fine, have it your way.”

            The mildly superior tone aggravated Raph and he got stubborn.  Being thrown wildly about, Raph suddenly realized he had a tiger by the tail.  Letting go meant being eaten.

            Rather than admit that and calling for help, Raph yelled, “He’s right where I want him!”

            Leo stuck a finger in the air.  “Strategy tip?” he offered.

            But Raph wasn’t listening; his natural obstinacy made him refuse to surrender the plan of attack he had chosen, despite its obvious path to failure.

            Right about then the gator tossed him off of its back and he landed hard in the water.  Standing up, he turned just in time to see a gaping mouth lined with humongous teeth bearing down on him.

            Before he even had a chance to blink, the creature’s mouth snapped shut and its entire body slammed down on the tunnel floor.

            When the sheet of water that had been flung up from the force of its fall landed around him, Raphael saw Leonardo astride the beast.

            “How  . . .?” Raph tried to ask, the one word all he could muster.

            Leo slid off of the gator’s back, a look of smug satisfaction on his young face.

            “Pressure points,” he told Raph with an air of nonchalance.

            “You know gator pressure points?” Raph asked incredulously.

            “Master Splinter taught me,” Leo said with a smile.  “It’s my turn to lead.”

            With that he started to run, flinging back over his shoulder at his surprised brother, “Back home!”

            Just before they entered the lair, Raph caught Leo’s arm and stopped him.

            “Master Splinter’s gonna want ta know how come we’re all wet and muddy,” he said.

            Leo nodded.  “I’ll tell him.  You go get cleaned up.”

            As he moved again, Raph yanked harder on the arm he still held.  “What do you mean you’re gonna tell him?  We’ll get into trouble,” he said.

            Leo gave him a hard stare.  “I will not lie to sensei about what happened Raphael.  Don’t worry, it was my fault because I was in charge and it’s my responsibility to explain what we were doing.”

            They would have argued further, except that Mikey had heard their voices and came out of the lair to see why they were waiting to come in.  At their bedraggled appearance, his mouth dropped open.

            “What happened to you guys?” Mikey asked.

            “None of your beeswax,” Raph said, pushing past his younger brother and storming into the lair.

            Leo only shook his head and entered directly behind him, immediately going to find Master Splinter in order to explain their misadventure.

            Mikey thought seriously about eavesdropping, but decided instead to follow Raph into the bathroom.  He knew he could always talk his red banded brother into telling him everything.

            Raph was running warm water into their washtub and removing his soaked mask when Mikey sauntered in.  Since he wasn’t in the mood for company, Raph glared at him.

            Undaunted by the look, Mikey took a seat on the closed lid of the toilet and eyed Raphael.

            “Did you two get in a fight?” Mikey asked, a little hopefully.  In his opinion, Leonardo had been hogging Raph lately.

            “No,” Raph snapped sharply, removing his belt and stepping into the tub.

            “Well then what happened?  Leo went in to see Master Splinter and that means he’s about to ‘fess up to something.  Come on, tell me,” Mikey coaxed in his best wheedling voice.

            “A little privacy here?” Raph asked, fast losing patience.  All he wanted was some quiet so he could think about what Master Splinter was going to do to him for nearly getting Leo and himself killed.

            It seemed that no matter what Raph tried to do to earn a little of his Father’s praise, it always backfired on him.  He was so determined today to show Leonardo that he could be a great leader and get them out of trouble that he forgot he shouldn’t be getting them into trouble in the first place. 

            That was the real difference between Raphael and Master Splinter’s perfect son Leonardo.  Even now, when he was the one who should be in his Father’s presence taking the much deserved blame for what had happened, he was sitting in a warm bath letting his older brother face the consequences of Raph’s actions by himself.

            Sinking into the water until it was up to his nostrils, Raph glowered at the other end of the tub and tried to tune Mikey out.

            “. . .  and you never play with me anymore,” Mikey was saying.

            Raph had no idea how that sentence had begun, but he had a bad feeling it was going to end in one of his kid brother’s famous pouts.

            “I do to play with ya’,” Raph said in a flat tone, the heavier accent he was picking up more noticeable when he was aggravated.

            “Not much,” Mikey complained.  Then out of the blue he asked, “Did you play ‘married’ with Leo?”

            Raph came up in the water with a splash.  “No!” he nearly shouted.  “Mikey, what is it with you and that stupid married game?  Master Splinter says it’s for human grown-ups and we shouldn’t be playing it anyway.”

            “I don’t think it’s stupid,” Mikey said in a low voice.

            “Shows how much you know,” Raph told him, purposefully being a bit hateful.

            Mikey’s reminding him of their private game made him feel the loss of his little brother’s companionship that much more acutely.  Raph thought spending time with Leo would get rid of those feelings, but it didn’t seem to be working.

            He absolutely could not understand why a shared hug and kiss while playing Mikey’s dumb game made him feel all weird inside, when an embrace with his Father or other two brothers did not.  Maybe it was because Mikey tended to cling to him for much longer; that tendency on the part of his youngest sibling making Raph increasingly uncomfortable.

            “So what do you and Leo play?” Mikey wanted to know.

            Raph bit back his annoyance to answer, “Stuff.  Like follow the leader mostly.”

            Mikey’s eyes lit up.  “I’m good at that game, I could play that with you.  I’ll even let you be the leader as much as you want.”

            Raph thought back on the adventure he and Leo had just survived, and shivered in spite of the warm water.

            “I don’t wanna be the leader if you’re just gonna let me do it all the time,” Raph said.  “I wanna be leader ‘cause I earned it.”

            Mikey wasn’t sure what to say to that.  For the first time in his life, Mikey didn’t understand what his Raph was talking about.  The thought that Leo probably did made Michelangelo fairly unhappy.

            “I hate sharing you,” Mikey admitted with a pout.

            “You ain’t the only brother I’ve got Mikey, so get used ta it,” Raph grumbled, annoyed at the conversation and his little brother’s company.

            “Yeah, but I’m the one who always lets you be in charge when we play games,” Mikey reminded him.  “You never complained about that before.”

            “Well maybe I’m growing up and I don’t like your games anymore,” Raph said, not caring how those words sounded.  “Maybe I’d rather hang with Leo now.”

            Mikey jumped up and left the bathroom without another word.  Raph thought he heard a sniffle as his brother passed through the door, but he didn’t much care at the moment.  Let Mikey be mad at him; Raph had other concerns that were more pressing.

            Leaving his brother soaking in the tub and wallowing in some kind of angry emotion, Mikey made straight for the kitchen.  The area designated as such contained a number of old cabinets and a couple of beat up wardrobes that they had scrounged for the purpose of holding their food supply.

            One of those wardrobes was plenty big enough for a turtle tot, and Mikey opened the door, shifted some things around and crawled inside, closing the door behind him.

TBC…..


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,735  
> Rated: PG-13  
> Summary: Leonardo accepts punishment and a lesson in leadership, while Raphael attempts to understand the disparity between their roles. Michelangelo has an epiphany.

            Master Splinter received the information about the alligator misadventure from a contrite Leonardo.

            On his knees with his head bowed, Leonardo explained succinctly exactly what had occurred, how the two boys had escaped, and shouldered the complete responsibility for the mishap.

            Looking down at his oldest son’s head, Master Splinter found that though angered by his son’s disobedience, he was quite proud of how Leonardo had handled the situation and had accepted accountability for it.

            He also read between the lines of the tale and understood that Raphael was the instigator behind the infraction.  With or without Michelangelo’s influence, it seemed that his third child was determined to be led by his impulses.

            Master Splinter thought that he also saw in the interaction between Leonardo and Raphael a trace of jealousy and need on the part of the younger turtle.  He knew that he would have to find a way to help Raphael overcome those feelings, or as they grew older, his red banded child would become somewhat of a burden to the chosen leader.

            As it was, Master Splinter decided this would be a good lesson for Leonardo.  He knew that his oldest had a great desire for the leadership role and that he worked hard to be perfect in everything he learned.

            His Father wanted Leonardo to also understand the consequences that could come of an inability to control a given situation.  Master Splinter was concerned that Leonardo might be seeing only the rewards of leadership, and not the painful side of it.  If his oldest could not handle that inevitable part of his role, then the children’s sensei wanted to know about it while they were all still young enough so that a shift in the family dynamic could be made.

            “You understand Leonardo, that straying from the path you were given permission to traverse was in direct disobedience to my rules?” Master Splinter asked.

            “Yes Master Splinter,” Leo answered quietly.

            “As a leader, you must understand that strict adherence to rules is a requirement and a duty.  I expect it of you, and you must expect it of your brothers.  If one of them chooses to disobey, it is your responsibility to find a way to stop them,” Master Splinter said.

            “Master Splinter, what if I can’t?” Leo asked.  “How will I know what to do if Ra . . . I mean, if one of them won’t listen?”

            “That will be the most difficult thing for you to learn my son.  You will have to be better at everything in order to gain their respect and their trust.  The road to that goal is filled with hardships.  There will be times when you might actually have to fight your brothers to maintain control, and during those times they will hate you.  You must remember always that their lives are in your hands, and that having them despise you is preferable to them being dead,” Master Splinter told him.

            “I understand sensei,” Leo said.

            “Do you still wish to be the leader Leonardo?  Knowing and understanding what will be required of you?” Master Splinter asked.

            Leo looked up, startled by the question.  No matter how difficult things became, or how hard Raphael fought him, Leonardo’s one true burning desire was to be leader.

            “Yes Master Splinter,” Leo responded.  “I will learn everything required of me and more in order to keep by family safe.  I will honor you and this clan by my actions, I swear it.”

            Master Splinter studied him for a moment, and saw the resolute fire burning behind Leonardo’s eyes.

            “Very well.  You will begin by rising a half hour before your brothers in order to begin the day’s training exercises,” Master Splinter said, and then took a deep breath.  “Now, your punishment for today’s violation of the rules are as follows; you and Raphael will not be allowed out of the lair for two weeks.  In addition, you will take on both Donatello and Michelangelo’s chores for a two week period.

            “Your bedtime will be one hour earlier than normal, and you will spend one hour of your free time in my alcove in meditation.  I expect you to use that time in contemplation of your actions and in reviewing Raphael’s.”

            “Yes Master,” Leo said, his eyes once more downcast.

            “Leonardo,” Master Splinter said, “I am not trying to be unduly hard on you.  I wish for you to fully understand the task you have chosen to undertake.  What happened today could have been tragic, and as a Father, I am most distressed by that thought.  Please do not allow such an occurrence to happen again.”

            “I won’t Master Splinter,” Leo assured him.

            Master Splinter’s face softened.  “I wish also to tell you I am pleased with how you conducted yourself after the attack began.  It requires an agile mind to understand both the attack and the correct response to it at a moment’s notice.  You are dismissed.”

            Leo blinked at his Father’s praise, warmed by the words.  Bowing so that his forehead touched the ground, Leo stood up and said, “Thank you Father.”

            After he was gone, Master Splinter stood completely still and stared at the wall.  Finally, he sighed and scratched his chin absently, knowing that he could not put off speaking to Raphael for any longer.

            He found his most volatile child toweling himself off after his bath and summoned the boy to precede him into the private alcove.

            Raphael kneeled, listening to his Father’s steps as he moved around to stand in front of the turtle.  Nothing was said for several long minutes, during which time Raph was surreptitiously watching his sensei’s tail.

            The tip of that tail was tapping the floor in a regular rhythm, a dead giveaway of the Master ninja’s agitation.  Raph braced himself.

            “Leonardo has given me a complete report of what happened today,” Master Splinter finally said.

            Raphael said nothing, his golden eyes fixed on his Father’s tail.

            “To say that I am not pleased would be an understatement.  What the two of you did could have been disastrous to yourselves and to this family.  Is that clear to you Raphael?” Master Splinter asked.

            “Yes sensei,” Raph muttered.  _If something had happened to Leo_ , his mind filled in.

            “Leonardo has accepted the blame and the responsibility for deliberately disobeying my rules,” Master Splinter continued.  “As punishment, he will be taking on additional chores and other duties, including confinement to the lair for a two week period.  You will likewise share in that confinement.  For two weeks, you will not venture outside of this lair, is that understood Raphael?”

            “Yes Master Splinter.”  Raph shifted on his knees and said, “But I should share the rest of the punishment too.  I’m the one who  talked Leo into going down that tunnel.”

            “No,” Master Splinter said.  “The burden of that poor choice falls upon Leonardo.”

            “That ain’t right,” Raph objected, the slang he was picking up from watching people through the street grates becoming more evident.  “I messed up and he had ta go with me ta watch my shell.  He didn’t have a choice.”

            “Do not argue this point with me Raphael,” Master Splinter said sternly.  “Leonardo is the leader, and as such, the responsibility and consequences of your actions fall on him.  That is what it means to be the leader.”

            “I don’t want anybody else ta answer for what I do,” Raph said, his voice rising.  “That ain’t fair.  If I mess up it should be on me.”

            “It is ‘on you’ my son,” Master Splinter explained.  “Perhaps next time you will think about how your choices will affect your brothers before you make them.  When I tell you that you are training to be a part of a team; that is what I mean.  As a member of this family, you must learn to control your temper and your impulses in order to consider how those unfettered actions might be harmful.”

            “It ain’t like I don’t try,” Raph told him.  “It’s just too hard ta wait around studying stuff.  I’m sorry I can’t be perfect like Leo is; but you gotta know I can fight just as good as he can.”

            “Leadership is not simply about fighting, Raphael.  It is also knowing when to fight, when to delegate, and when to withdraw.  A good leader is not the one who rushes headfirst into battle; he makes decisions that may require he send someone else forward.  Would you want that responsibility?”

            Raph frowned.  “What, are you asking if I want ta be the leader?  ‘Cause the answer is I don’t know.  I would have liked that chance instead of you deciding I ain’t good enough.”

            Master Splinter’s brows drew together.  “I have never felt that you were not good enough my son.  I designated Leonardo to be the leader because of a different set of qualities that he possesses.  Unlike you, your brother does know what he desires.”

            “Yeah,” Raph muttered.  “I think he just likes telling the rest of us what ta do.”

            “Do you wish to someday have your brother’s lives in your hands, Raphael?” Master Splinter stepped closer to his red banded son, his voice a bit more harsh.  “Would you be able to send Michelangelo to his doom if it meant that Leonardo and Donatello would live?”

            “I wouldn’t do that,” Raph protested.  “I’d go myself so all three of them could live.  That’s what a leader’s supposed to do.”

            “No it is not,” Master Splinter explained emphatically.  “Without the leader, the army crumbles.  Leaders must not sacrifice themselves and this is something Leonardo understands.  You are impetuous and quick to anger; neither are qualities a good leader can afford to have.”

            “Then what am I good for?” Raph asked, his frustration apparent.

            “You have a good soul my son,” Master Splinter set a furry hand on Raphael’s shoulder.  “You are quick witted and strong, intensely loyal and protective.  You are valuable to this family as a beloved son and a much needed brother.  Your siblings all lean on you because of those qualities and you should not be so quick to dismiss them as useless.”

            Raphael’s eyes went down again and he took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth.

            “Okay Master Splinter.  I’ll try to do better about controlling myself,” Raph said.

            Master Splinter patted his shoulder.  “It is all I can ask of you, my son.  I am proud of you.”

            Having dismissed Raphael, Master Splinter decided that a strong cup of tea was needed for its calming effects.  As he set about preparing the beverage, he heard a noise from one of the wardrobes and stopped moving in order to listen.

            All was silent for a full minute, and then he heard it again.  A low sob, a scratching sound and the _thunk_ of a hard shell striking wood.

            Standing before the offending wardrobe, Master Splinter reached forward and opened the door.

            Curled up on the floor in what could not have been a comfortable position was his youngest son, Michelangelo.  The boy’s shoulder jerked and he tucked his face behind it as light fell on him.

            “What are you doing in here, Michelangelo?” Master Splinter asked.

            “Nothing,” Mikey replied, his voice muffled by his knee pressing against his mouth.

            “I see,” Master Splinter said, frowning.  It was obvious to him that this was a result of some interaction with Raphael and could not be ignored.

            “Perhaps it would be good for you to tell me why you are choosing to do nothing from inside this wardrobe,” Master Splinter suggested.

            “It’s ‘cause I think Raph wants to unmarry me,” Mikey told him, sniffling.

            Master Splinter put a hand down and said, “Come out of there and explain to me what ‘unmarried’ is and why your brother Raphael wishes to do this.”

            Mikey pulled his face out of hiding and looked at his Father’s hand before deciding to accept the request.  Untangling his body, he slid out of wardrobe with the ease only the young and very agile could attain.

            Master Splinter led him to a chair next to their battered kitchen table, and took a seat next to him.  Mikey’s mask was wet with tears; his blue eyes clouded by sadness.

            “Raph wants to play with Leo all the time,” Mikey explained as he drew in a shuddering breath.  “He said he doesn’t like my games.”

            “Ah,” Master Splinter said, understanding.  “Because of this you believe he wants to end the married game that the two of you played.”

            “He said you told him it’s only for humans,” Mikey said, peering at his Father somewhat accusingly.

            Master Splinter nodded, knowing he would have to have this discussion with Michelangelo at some point.

            “It is a game that adult humans play,” Master Splinter said.  “When two people from different families discover that they love each other, they make a commitment to remain together forever.  You and Raphael are from the same family; you do not need to be married.”

            “But I want to live with Raph forever.  What if he grows up and doesn’t want to stay here?  If we’re married then he has to,” Mikey said, a determined set to his jaw.

            “You cannot force someone to stay with you Michelangelo, no matter how strongly you feel.  I do not honestly believe that Raphael would ever leave this family, so you have nothing to fear,” Master Splinter told him.

            Mikey sat and thought about that for a moment, then asked, “Suppose he wants to play married with Leo?  Are you gonna tell him he can’t ‘cause they’re already in the same family?”

            Master Splinter realized then that Mikey was jealous of his oldest brother and the time he was spending with Raphael.  Separating the two brightly banded turtles at bedtime had not diminished Michelangelo’s obsession or his possessiveness.

            “Do not worry about Leonardo and Raphael.  They have no desire to play ‘married’,” Master Splinter said.  “They enjoy more competitive games together.  Raphael’s taste in games is changing Michelangelo.  Play time is for stimulating the mind and the body, and to learn things about growing up.  It is natural for your brothers to want to play different types of games with each other, and it is something you should be doing as well.”

            “But I only like to play with Raph,” Mikey said with a slight pout.  “Don doesn’t make any sense when he talks, and Leo is always serious.”

            “I think if you give them a chance, you will discover that those two brothers can be just as fun to play with as Raphael,” Master Splinter said.

            Mikey drooped even lower and two large tears slid out of his eyes, further wetting his already soaked mask.

            “What if Raph never wants to play with me again?” he whispered.  “I used to understand everything about him, but now I don’t and he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

            Master Splinter patted Michelangelo’s arm.  “It is not you, my son.  Raphael is discovering some things about himself and is finding them to be a bit confusing.  Just as you are having difficulties with some of the changes that occur from growing older, Raphael is likewise struggling.  He is your brother and loves you very much.  Give him some time and you will see this.”

            Mikey perked up a little, his head and back straightening.  “So if I stay the same me that I’ve always been, then Raph won’t be so confused, right sensei?  No matter what happens or how much growing up we do, if I’m not a whole lot different, then Raph won’t have to work so hard to be around me.  Thanks sensei!”

            This mini epiphany energized the young turtle, who sprang up from his chair, the sadness of moments ago completely lost to whatever new purpose had overtaken him.

            Removing his wet mask as he left the kitchen, he went in search of Donatello, bypassing a surprised Raph, who had expected his baby brother to pounce on him once more.

            Master Splinter watched his youngest bounce around the lair as though nothing had been bothering him for the last hour.  Michelangelo’s resilience was a great asset to the turtle, but it left the Father with some concerns.

            Amongst them was just how far Michelangelo would go to remain unchanged in order to appease Raphael.

TBC…….


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,024  
> Rated: PG-13  
> Summary: Master Splinter must call upon all of his mental resources in order to accommodate one of his children's needs. Mikey doesn't have to work that hard to get results.

            Master Splinter came to understand that his son Donatello was not simply a gifted and intelligent child; he was in fact, a genius.

            Not simply a genius by mutant turtle standards, but by those measurements set by humans as well.  That fact was a matter of great pride to his Father, but for Master Splinter it was also a two-sided coin.

            The boy’s intellect provided the family with many of the requirements for a decent life.  His tinkering with items recovered from dumpsters and the local junkyard gave them clean, filtered water for both bathing and consumption, generator powered lights and electronics, a small working refrigerator and a beat up but serviceable deep freezer.

            However, it became abundantly clear that Master Splinter would be unable to continue as Donatello’s teacher in anything other than parenting and ninjitsu; two things that could not be gleaned from books.

            When his children were in their eleventh year, Master Splinter was forced by necessity to separate them into different classrooms and the kitchen table became the learning center for Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo.

            An area of their small lair was set aside for Donatello.  It contained a battered desk, several bookcases fashioned from old boards, a card table and two chairs; one of which actually had all of its wheels.  This became Donatello’s ‘lab’, so christened by his second oldest son.

            During the time of day designated for lessons, Master Splinter would set a task before his three kitchen-bound sons and monitor their progress.  For Donatello, Master Splinter would choose a book from the turtles growing collection and require the boy read a section and then explain in writing what he had learned.

            This exercise was mostly to ensure that Donatello understood that he was still in ‘school’ just like his siblings were, and that his restless hands were required to show the discipline of not tinkering during school hours.

            Master Splinter always made a great show of reviewing the work that Donatello had done, but truth be told, he grasped none of it.  He was astute enough however, to be able to ask at least one or two questions from the printed text and Donatello’s scribbling’s to keep the boy on his toes.

            Having determined that his sons were proficient enough in their martial arts training at the age of ten to begin weapons training, Master Splinter naturally began to teach them to use the bo staff first.

            While the boys each had their share of bumps and bruises as they learned to use the staff, Master Splinter found, much to his surprise, that Donatello wore the fewest such souvenirs of their practice bouts.  The child most easily subdued by the others in hand-to-hand sparring, Donatello excelled with a bo to the point where only Leonardo and Master Splinter could provide him with a challenge.

            He was not so adept at the other weapons that Master Splinter required they begin to learn once they had each mastered the bo.  Acquiring the raw materials to create those weapons was a feat of both skill and artifice; some items found on the junk heap, others purchased with found money and a quick set of ninja hands to make the trade.

            Master Splinter worked hard to match his children with the weapon most appropriate to their skill and temperament.  For Leonardo the katana was a logical choice; his oldest child was himself as precise and perfect as a finely honed blade.

            Raphael sais, while primarily defensive weapons, were as versatile as he was.  They were also the only weapons truly designed to be thrown, a skill at which Raphael excelled.

            The nunchakus could have fit no one better than Michelangelo.  The whirling, spinning, non-stop motion of the twin clubs held together by a length of chain were the quintessential Michelangelo.

            For Donatello, his most brilliant of sons, no better weapon than the bo staff could be found.  Perhaps it was the fact that while his mind reveled in complexities, his soul required simplicity.  And while Master Splinter required they all learn the fundamentals of other weapons, he did not push Donatello to relinquish his beloved bo.

            During the years between Michelangelo’s revelation about his place in Raphael’s life, and the acquiring of weapons, the youngest brother remained essentially the same.  He performed required duties as necessary, developed a taste for practical jokes, and enjoyed playing games whenever he was allocated any free time.

            The games themselves grew more sophisticated and the imagination he put into them more complex, the challenge they promised drawing his older siblings in whether they admitted a willingness to play or not.  Michelangelo’s games were like honey to a bee.

            It was a bee named Raphael who was most often drawn to the honey, Michelangelo’s insight into his character allowing the orange banded turtle the ability to design games that were most likely to pique the hot tempered child’s curiosity. 

            But Michelangelo was more than insightful, he was also clever.  His imagination might churn out an immense and never ending string of ideas, but he did not have the skill set to actually create what his mind could envision.

            This is when Michelangelo discovered something incredibly unique about his genius brother, Donatello.  While Donatello could spend hours in seclusion working on both practical and esoteric things, bemoaning the smallest interruption, he was also, to Michelangelo’s great delight, unable to turn away anyone’s request for anything.

            Donatello had been born with an innate need to please, and an insatiable desire to make his family happy, no matter what it might cost him.  And Michelangelo was certainly not adverse to taking advantage of that fact.

            “Don~ny,” Michelangelo trilled, his voice resonant and melodious, a sure sign that he was about to make another request of his purple banded brother.

            Bending over the dismantled pieces of an electric grill, Don was not happy to hear that voice.  Blinking down at the inner workings through a set of reading glass that were fastened to his head by an elastic band, he attempted to pretend that the voice wasn’t coming any nearer.

            In was a futile attempt, when just a moment later, the voice was right next to his head.

            “I’ve got an idea,” Michelangelo announced triumphantly.

            “That’s a major breakthrough,” Don said, his voice calm and uninviting.

            The sarcasm was lost in the fog of Mikey’s enthusiasm.  “Yep.  Look what I found at the junkyard!”

            Don knew that if he turned his head, all hope of repairing the grill would be gone for the evening.  Visions of gooey grilled cheese, tasty crisp bacon, hot buttery pancakes and a lot of other delectable delights made within minutes were fading as the sound of Mikey’s voice grew.

            “Mikey, I kind of have my hands full at the moment,” Don tried, knowing that he should voice that in a much stronger way, something like, “ _Go away Mikey_ ”.  He was just unable to say something like that to his kid brother.

            His newest treasure clutched in one hand, Mikey ignored the subtleties of Don’s statement as easily as he’d ignored the sarcasm.  He knew a lot about Donatello; ever since he’d become determined to get past the esoteric language that his brother spoke he had become strangely fascinated by the genius.

            The first thing he came to understand was that his brother was special, not a Raph kind of special, but very uncommon.  Normal humans didn’t have the smarts that floated around in Don’s head, and neither did some of the more intelligent ones.  That coupled with the fact that Don was all Mikey’s made the youngest turtle very smug.

            And he _was_ all Mikey’s, because the orange banded turtle knew how to push Donatello’s buttons.

            Shoving his find under the magnified lenses riding his brother’s face, Mikey yelped excitedly, “It’s an electric train!”

            Don had to pull his head back to avoid having the dirty toy collide with his beak.  Doing so forced him to meet Mikey’s eyes, and his heart sank.  Those big, blue eyes staring back at him with so much trust was his undoing, the thing that made him remove his glasses with a long, drawn out sigh.

            “Yes, Mikey, I can see that,” Don said gently.  “This is the find of the century for what reason?”

            “’Cause you’re going to fix it,” Mikey told him as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.

            “No I’m not,” Don said, then added quickly, “At least not right now.  I’ve got something I really need to finish.”

            Mikey looked at the grill and huffed.  “The stove works dude, we don’t need that grill right now.”

            “What we don’t need right now is another of your toys,” Don attempted to explain, although he knew that the  priorities of the rest of the family were rarely the same as Michelangelo’s.

            Mikey shook his head, making sure to keep the toy in Don’s line of sight.  “It isn’t a toy, Don, it’s totally a new training tool.”

            “I have no idea what that means,” Don said, although positive that such an admittance would garner further explanation.

            He was correct.  “You gotta make this thing work with one of those remote control gizmos,” Mikey said.  “Then I can drive it all over the lair with a big cardboard bulls eye on top and Raph can do target practice on a moving target.”

            “And why does Raph need more target practice?” Don asked, trying to reach around his brother’s shell for the screw driver.  “Raph is already better at hitting things with either a shuriken or his sai than any of us.”

            “ _Moving_ target,” Mikey stressed, doing his best to provide an example of that very thing by bobbing in front of Don’s face.  “Come on, admit it, it’s an awesome idea.”

            Don contemplated the toy for one long fateful moment, and Mikey moved in for the kill.

            “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a remote controlled electric train in any magazine,” Mikey said, doing his best impression of a street hawker.  “Just imagine the challenge of it; I’ll bet some of the guts have to come out so there’ll be room for the control gizmo and then you gotta make the remote strong enough to move the train.  _Shell_ ,” he said, employing their new favorite expletive, “it’s gotta be able to move really fast to make the targets a challenge for Raph.”

            “For Raph, huh?” Don asked, his mind already trying and discarding ideas.

            It was a challenge all right.  The idea of making both Mikey and Raph happy with a single modified toy began to appeal to him.  It would get Mikey out of his shell for a while, and Raph  . . . Raph might even compliment him.  Don blushed a little at the thought.

            Staring at the train, Don brought his hand up to his chin, stroking it absentmindedly and it was all Mikey could do not to shout in triumph.  Donny would figure out a way to modify the little electric toy and in a short while, Mikey would have another way to draw his Raphael’s attention away from Leonardo.

            In the last couple of years Michelangelo had found himself competing against his perfect sibling for Raph’s time, albeit without Leo’s knowledge.  Why Raph wanted to spend so much time with Leonardo when all the blue masked leader did was train, Mikey would never understand.

            Mikey had begun to put an extra bit of effort into his training as well, putting his natural athleticism to good use in an effort to impress Raph.  He had in fact surprised everyone in his family with his agility, including himself.  When he was paying attention and not distracted, he could even kick Raph’s shell.

            Putting his Raph down on the dojo floor and pinning him gave Mikey a great deal of satisfaction.  It also tended to infuriate Raphael to the point where the hot head would go out of his way to return the favor.

            For young Michelangelo, having his Raphael straddling his plastron and holding him down on the floor was not at all an unpleasant experience.

TBC………


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 3,260  
> Rated: NC-17  
> Summary: Donatello takes on a new role in the family and Michelangelo is the first to utilize his services.

            When Raphael’s voice began to change, Master Splinter knew the time for teaching his sons more about themselves had arrived.

            They were all nearly thirteen and well advanced in their ninjitsu training.  Master Splinter began to allow them to explore further outwards into the vast sewer tunnel system and he knew that they all had spent time observing the humans who roamed the city.

            Master Splinter realized he could no longer put off the biology lesson when Mikey came home after one such outing and asked his Father what ‘lust’ was, having seen the word on a billboard.

            Their Father’s difficulty was that he had very little knowledge about their physiology.  Having raised them from hatchlings, he knew where all of the basic body parts were located, but as far as their internal functions went, he was clueless.

            When Master Splinter came in contact with the mutagen that eventually changed him, he had been covered in Master Yoshi’s DNA.  The transformation imbued him with all of his Master’s ninjitsu knowledge and skills.  Coupled with the natural stealth of a rat, Master Splinter had many formidable and unique abilities.  Scientific knowledge was not one of them.

            One day Donatello chanced upon a box of pamphlets that were buried in a dumpster behind a medical clinic.  The information they contained had been studied with keen interest by the boy.  His new collection included facts about the human heart, lungs and female reproductive system.  Though they piqued the genius’ interest in anatomy, they didn’t help with Master Splinter’s problem.

            When his son announced that he had decided they needed to have a doctor in the family and that he was prepared to adopt that role, Master Splinter was both relieved and stressed.  His purple banded child would be looking to his Father for assistance towards achieving that goal, and said Father was not prepared.

            Then one evening while on a supply run, Master Splinter spotted a small building with the words ‘neighborhood lending library’ etched above its doors.

            Nose twitching at the possibilities, Master Splinter searched for a way inside and was lucky enough to find a small air duct on one side of the building.  Too small for a human, no one had bothered to secure it, and it became Master Splinter’s doorway.

            That first night, the rodent Father located books on reptiles, books on basic first aid and more detailed books about human anatomy.  Grabbing a handful of printer paper, Master Splinter exited the building with his borrowed books and scurried back to the lair.

            Donatello was beside himself with glee when his Father presented him with the books.  Master Splinter explained to his son that the books had to be returned within a couple of days so that no one would notice them missing and then handed Donatello the stack of paper to be used for jotting down information.

            With such a task before him, Don set to work with a purpose.  The first thing he did was to read each book from cover to cover, and then he began making prodigious notes.  His Father found him late that first night, sound asleep at his desk.  It was a portent of things to come.

            The borrowed books helped Master Splinter conduct his first class in sex education.  With all four children in attendance, their Father pointed to photographs of human and reptile anatomy, explaining terms in the most clinical manner possible.

            Donatello then provided them with a diagram of what he theorized their inner workings might look like.  His explanation of why Raph’s voice was changing was rudimentary and easily understood by his siblings, containing none of the embarrassing phrases that Master Splinter might have employed.

            When Master Splinter’s grateful gaze fell on his purple banded son, Donatello smiled knowingly.  It was at this point that Master Splinter realized his son’s grasp of Raphael’s ‘change’ was far more advanced than he was letting on.

            Before the lesson was done, Master Splinter told his children that Donatello would begin assisting with their medical care, in preparation for one day becoming their ‘doctor’.

            The acceptance that met his announcement told Master Splinter that his sons had expected that very thing.  Before Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo left the ‘lab’, where class had been conducted, Don had some final words for them.

            “I’m your doctor,” he said, “and that means you have to tell me _everything_.  If you don’t, then I can’t do my job.”

            Master Splinter took those words at face value, little understanding the extent of Donatello’s intellect or his cunning.

            A few months later, while Leo and Raph were out on a training run with Master Splinter, Mikey’s natural curiosity got the better of him.  It had been a long time since he had snooped in Raph’s personal box, but the opportunity was much too good to pass up.

            Don was working on something in his lab and Mikey knew the genius would never come out to check on him.  Having insisted that the lab have some privacy, Don had enlisted Raphael’s assistance in erecting plywood walls around his corner of the lair.  An old army cot had been pushed up against one of those walls, and Donatello now had the only true ‘room’ in the lair.

            Mikey didn’t really care that Don spent so much time in his lab.  When Mike wanted or needed the genius, he knew where to find him.

            After a half an hour with some of Raph’s hidden secrets, Mikey found that he needed Donatello badly.

            Clearing his throat as he stood in Don’s doorway, Mikey said, “Um Donny?”

            “Yeah Mikey?” Don answered without looking up from the book he was reading.

            “You remember how you said we should always come to you if we had a problem and we had to tell you everything?” Mikey asked.

            “That really wasn’t meant to include your confessions about breaking something of Master Splinter’s in the hopes that I’ll fix it before he gets home,” Don told him, anticipating the kind of problem Mikey was likely to have.

            “No dude, this is like, a doctor kind of problem,” Mikey said in a low voice.

            It was the tone of voice more than anything that drew Donatello’s attention around to his brother.  Mikey’s eyes were wide open with none of the beguiling qualities that were usually manufactured by the youngest.  Instead he appeared to be in pain.

            Don shot up out of his chair in one fluid motion, darting over to grab Mikey’s arm.

            “Are you hurt?  What’s wrong Mikey?”  Don asked, beginning to examine his brother.

            “I just  . . . I just feel _weird_ ,” Mikey said, and indeed he did appear flushed to Donatello’s sharp eyes.

            “Come sit down on the cot,” Don instructed, his hand still holding Mikey’s arm as he moved alongside his brother.

            As they walked together, Don noticed how awkwardly his brother was moving.  Once he had Mikey seated, Don kneeled next to him and placed a hand on his brother’s forehead.

            “You are a little warmer than normal,” Don said.  “Tell me exactly what happened.”

            Mikey drew in a deep breath.  “I got bored after everybody left so I sorta . . . um, well I sorta started going through Raph’s stuff  . . .”

            Don interrupted.  “You got into Raph’s private box Mikey?  What were you thinking?”  he asked incredulously.

            “I don’t know,” Mikey admitted.  “I just wanted to know what kinda things he kept in there.  I mean, you and Leo aren’t all secretive about the stuff in your boxes.”

            “That is no excuse for invading his privacy,” Don told him sternly.

            “You won’t tell him will you?  I put everything back just the way I found it,” Mikey said pleadingly.

            “I won’t say anything Mikey,” Don assured him.  “I told you guys that you could come to me with anything and that I wouldn’t betray your confidences unless it involved life or death.”

            Mikey exhaled loudly in relief.  “Dude, if you told Raph I was in his private box it’d be my death all right.”

            “Mikey,” Don said, hoping to get his brother back on track, “what has Raph’s private box got to do with you being in pain?”

            “It’s ‘cause I found this.”  Mikey reached behind himself and pulled a rolled up magazine from his belt.

            “I thought you said you put everything back . . . “ Don started to say and then realized what Mikey was holding.

            It was an adult magazine.  An adult magazine full of nude human women.

            With the sight of that magazine came sudden understanding.

            “Mikey, where exactly is this pain you’re having?” Don asked.

            Lowering his head to look between his legs, Mikey pointed to his lower plastron.  Don followed his gaze and saw what he’d already suspected; there was a large bulge beneath the softer cartilage in one particular area.

            From the size of that bulge, Don knew Mikey had to be hurting.

            “Go ahead and drop down Mikey,” Don told him in his mildest voice.

            “What if  . . . if something’s broken?” Mikey asked fearfully.  “I don’t wanna make it worse.”

            “You won’t,” Don said gently.  “Trust me Mikey, I’m your doctor.”

            Mikey nodded, bit his lower lip and released his painfully hard penis from its hidden pocket.

            It stood up, proud and erect, bobbing just a bit because of Mikey’s excited breathing.

            “ _Oh shell_ ,” Mikey muttered.  “How’d that happen?”

            Don brought a hand up and rubbed his beak to cover a smile.

            “Michelangelo, weren’t you paying attention to Master Splinter and I the other day when we had a lesson about this?” Don asked in his most severe manner.

            “Sorta,” Mikey said.  “You talked about _this_?”

            Actually, Mikey had meant to pay attention, even when the talk started to sound boring.  The problem was he’d gotten distracted by Raph’s voice.  Raph _was_ paying attention during that lesson, and he asked a lot of questions.  His voice would be normal one minute; then it would squeak and drop much lower.

            For some reason that lower tone of voice coming from his Raph sent shivers down Mikey’s spine.  He spent almost the entire class time focused on Raph’s mouth, waiting to see his brother open it to speak.  That kind of distraction made it really hard for a guy to focus.

            “We talked about things that happen to boys when they start to become men,” Don explained.  “Like Raphael’s voice changing and your need for deodorant.  Something that happens to guys when they get excited in a certain way is that their penis fills up.”

            “Fills up with what?” Mikey asked, his eyes wide as he stared down at his penis.

            Don really didn’t want to go into details.  Watching Mikey’s erection bob so close to his face was starting to mesmerize him and Don wanted to just concentrate on solving his brother’s painful little problem.

            “How about we save that discussion for another time, okay?” Don asked.  “I just want you to understand that this is normal for our age and nothing is broken.”

            “Normal huh?”  Mikey seemed to think about that for a moment, tilting back on his shell a bit.

            The movement caused his penis to jerk and Don realized it was because Mikey’s tail had shifted to rub against the scratchy blanket on Don’s cot.

            “So~o, that means this happens to you?” Mikey asked a little breathlessly, moving his hips to grind his tail further into the blanket.  “And it happens to Raph and Leo too?  What about Mast  . . . “

            Don yelped, “Stop!”  Upon seeing Mikey’s grin, Don said, “Mikey, there are some mental pictures that are best left unpainted.”

            “I still don’t know how I got excited down there,” Mikey complained.

            “It was that magazine Mikey,” Don told him, pulling the offending publication from his brother’s hand.  “To put it simply, your boy parts liked it when you looked at girl parts.”

            “Is that why Raph looks at girl parts?” Mikey wanted to know.  “’Cause I gotta say, this kinda hurts and I don’t know why he’d want to get one of these on purpose.”

            Once more it was all Donatello could do not to laugh.  “It doesn’t hurt all the time, Mikey,” he said.

            “So it’ll go away right?” Mikey asked.  “How long is that gonna take?  ‘Cause I can’t shove my penis back in when it’s this big, and I totally don’t want the other guys to see me like this.”

            Don rubbed his forehead as he tried to think of a delicate way to explain Mikey’s dilemma to him.

            “Look Mikey,” he said, “you’re going to have to help it go back down to normal.  I’ll teach you the trick okay?  But please remember, this is private, just like going to the bathroom.  You  do not want to be doing this in front of Father or your other brothers.”

            “Just you right?” Mikey asked.  “’Cause you’re my doctor.”

            “Once you learn how to take care of yourself you will not even need to do this in front of me,” Don said.  “Let’s start okay?  I don’t know how long the others are going to be gone.”

            “Okay,” Mikey said agreeably, staring at Don’s face with a look of total trust.

            Don swallowed hard.  As detached as he was trying to remain, Michelangelo’s difficulties were starting to have a similar effect on him.

            “Touch yourself,” Don said.

            Mikey looked down, and then back up at Don.  “It hurts bad enough right now Donny.  I don’t want to make it worse by touching it.”

            “Mikey,” Don said calmly, “just touch it.”

            Taking a deep breath, Mikey brought one of his hands down and used the tip of a finger to gently press against the tip of his penis.  The resulting reaction was immediate; Mikey shuddered.

            “ _Whoa_ ,” Mikey murmured in surprise.  That had felt amazingly _good_.

            “Again,” Don said, his voice low and soothing.  “Wrap your hand around it.”

            As Mikey’s fingers closed around his aching flesh, he felt his penis throb in response.  Gripping himself a little tighter, Mikey groaned with pleasure.

            “Move your hand on the shaft Mikey; up and down.  Your body will know what to do,” Don told him.

            Mikey’s hand started to move, tentatively at first, but then as he started to understand what felt the best, he began to work himself a bit faster.  His face went through a number of changes as he stroked his erection; innocent surprise, intense pleasure, and scrunched up with concentration.

            Little breathy moans were issuing from his mouth and then came the first pearly drops of pre-come.

            When he felt his hand getting slick, Mikey opened his eyes to look at himself, gasping loudly before looking at Donatello with an almost stricken expression.

            Don’s little half smile was encouraging.  “It’s supposed to do that.  Keep going.”

            Mikey’s hand continued to move as he rocked back on his shell, his little tail twitching against the blankets.  Donatello couldn’t help but shiver as he watched; his younger brother looked incredible like this.

            “I . . . ngh  . . . I can’t . . . “ Mikey stuttered, his hand flying over his penis.

            “Do you want to look at Raph’s magazine?” Don said, quickly grasping Mikey’s difficulty in reaching completion.

            “Raph  . . . does this  . . .” Mikey gasped, his eyes squeezing tightly as a low vibration rolled up from his chest.

            The sound of Mikey’s churr almost lifted Don from his knees.  As much as he wanted to tell himself that he was simply observing in a scientific capacity, Don couldn’t control the ache he was starting to develop in his lower regions.

            Don knew instinctively that Mikey was thinking about Raphael, and not the naked women in Raph’s magazine.

            This was confirmed a moment later when Mikey reached orgasm, a tiny rasping, “Raph” slipping unknowingly from his lips.

            Mikey shook and grunted through his climax, and Don watched the entire process avidly.

            “Donny, what’s  . . . what’s _this_?” Mikey pushed the words out between gasping breaths.  He was lying back on his carapace, but his head was up as he stared at his hand and plastron, now both covered in a sticky substance.

            Don made it to his feet and grabbed a small towel.  Tipping his water jug onto it, he came back to Mikey’s side and gently cleaned the mess off of his brother.

            “This is what your penis was filled with,” Don explained, answering his brother’s earlier question.  It wasn’t entirely accurate, but Don didn’t think that mattered much at the moment.

            “Is it bad?”  Mikey let his head fall back as he started to relax.  His entire body suddenly felt weightless, all except for his eyelids.  They wanted to close and stay that way.

            “It’s not bad Mikey,” Don told him as he used the softest of touches to clean flesh that he knew was now hyper-sensitive.  “It’s guy stuff called ‘semen’.  Mostly it’s for making babies, but sometimes it just builds up and has to come out.”

            _“And really,”_ he thought to himself, _“does Mikey need to know more than that right now?”_

            “Oh,” Mikey said in a sleepy voice.  “I guess it comes out when I’m sleeping too, huh?  ‘Cause I wake up sticky sometimes.”

            “Hmm,” Don murmured, “it will do that.  Depends on what you’re dreaming about.”

            Mikey’s lips curved into a little half smile.  “Mostly Raph,” he said so softly that Don almost didn’t catch the words.

            “Go to sleep Mikey,” Don said.  “You did really good to come and talk to me about this.  Don’t ever try to hide anything from me, little brother.  Okay?”

            “Right-o doctor Don,” Mikey agreed, his head lolling to the side as he dozed off.

            Don tiptoed away from the cot and tossed the hand towel into a basket.  Grabbing another one and lightly wetting it, he left his lab and the now sleeping Michelangelo.

            Not sure when the rest of his family would return, Don headed out of the lair and into a series of tunnels, finally arriving at his destination.  A small secluded half tunnel would give the genius turtle the few minutes of privacy that he now desperately needed.

            With a groan that mimicked his little brother’s in intensity, Donatello allowed his own bulging erection to drop out into the open.  Leaning his carapace against the wall, Don slid down slowly, his hand already working to relieve his tension.

            He was going to have to hide that magazine when he got back to his lab.  If the others were still out, he could replace it in Raph’s box quickly.  If they had returned, then Don and Mikey were going to have to come up with a scheme to get the job done.

            One problem at a time.  Right now Don’s mind was pulling up images that were sure to help him reach a quick orgasm.  Tried and true mental pictures of Raphael; lifting weights or beating the wooden dummy.  Memories of Raph coming straight at him during sparring matches, his gold eyes gleaming and lips curled back in berserk passion.

            Tonight other images began to jump in between the ones of Raphael.  These were of Michelangelo, masturbating under Don’s direction, bringing himself off because Donny told him to.

            As Don felt himself drawing closer to the edge, he pictured Raph and Mikey together, each touching the other intimately while Don watched.

            Just as he reached his peak, Donatello decided he should try to make that happen.

TBC…….


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,344  
> Rated: R   
> Summary: Raphael analyzes his relationship with Leonardo and then discusses relationships in general with Donatello.

            Leonardo’s mastery of everything ninjitsu was a difficult act to follow, no matter how hard Raphael tried.

            For every major stride Raph made in his ninjitsu training, Leo seemed to make three.  Watching their Father heap praise upon the oldest left a bad taste in Raph’s mouth.  He knew he shouldn’t begrudge Leo his abilities, but the fact remained that his brother’s perfection was very irksome to the red banded turtle.

            Despite the arguing they did, which seemed to have increased since they became teenagers, Raph felt very close to Leo.  The one thing that Leo provided was stability and Raphael needed that; he needed to have someone who was predictable and structured.

            Because Raph himself was not.  His own inner turmoil seemed to increase with age, rather than slow down as he became more mature.  As angry as he became at times with his oldest brother, Raph knew that ‘Splinter Junior’ provided a necessary constancy in his life.

            Raphael’s interactions with his youngest brother had changed in the last couple of years.  Michelangelo wasn’t nearly as clinging as he had once been, his own ninjitsu training and incredible physical prowess giving him a sort of smug assurance.

            The two brightly banded brothers spent the most time together in sparring.  Whether Raph was in the mood or not, Mikey could somehow always egg him into it.  And eight out of ten times, Mikey won.  As much as he disliked being beaten, Raph had to admit that Mikey was simply too difficult to catch.

            Of course, when he did get his hands on the little sneak, Raph pummeled him enough to leave bruises.  They were Raph’s way of reminding Mikey just which one of them was the strongest.

            Raph could never stay angry with Mikey though, no matter how much his little brother goaded him.  As soon as Mikey flashed one of his disarming smiles in Raphael’s direction, the hot head forgave him whatever transgression had started him off on a quick burn in the first place.

            Such was not true in his interactions with Leo.  Mikey’s infractions were mostly harmless fun, but Raph’s arguments with Leo were deeper and more philosophical.  That Leonardo was basically mimicking their Father’s belief system only frustrated Raph more.

            So whenever he got really angry with his older brother, Raph tended to hang onto that anger for quite a while.  Since physical fights with Leo, though not unheard of, were met with the strictest punishments in Master Splinter’s arsenal, Raphael had to find other outlets for his frustration.

            Most of the time that involved escaping the confines of the lair, with or without permission.  Of the four boys, Raphael was the one who spent the greatest number of hours either running through the sewers, or standing near sewer grates watching the humans interact.

            Because of that, his accent and his view of life gradually became quite different from his brothers.  He was also the first to fully embrace his sexuality; watching the darkened alleys at night gave him a firsthand view of exactly what men and women did when they were alone.

            As much as he had learned from Donatello’s lesson on his changing voice and the functions of his body, particularly his sex organs, Raph still had one major question that hadn’t been answered.

            He had broached the subject to his Father many years previously, when Mikey had insisted they ‘play married’, but his Father hadn’t answered it to his satisfaction.  So one evening, after spending a couple of hours watching the street hookers seduce men into alleys and seedy hotels, Raph decided to bring up the topic once more.

            Only instead of going to his Father, Raphael approached the one person in his family who would know that answer and give it to him without beating around the bush.  He went to Donatello.

            It was late when Raph wandered back into the lair.  The light near the entrance had been left on, an indication that Master Splinter knew he wouldn’t come home until past his curfew and would speak to his son about the disobedience in the morning.  Raph wasn’t purposely trying to break the rules; it just seemed his feelings needed to be the thing directing his actions, not his sensei.

            Raphael was not surprised to see that the light in Don’s lab was still on as well.  Donatello always had numerous projects he was simultaneously working on, and time was something he tended to pay little attention to.

            Strolling over to his door, Raph tapped and leaned into the lab.  Don was standing next to his worktable, carefully pulling a needle and thread through an extremely beat up stuffed animal.

            “What are ya’ doin’ bro’?” Raph asked; his brow furrowing in puzzlement.

            Don tugged on the thread and then looked over at Raphael.

            “I’m practicing my stitching technique,” he told his brother.  “I know I only had to take a couple of them in Mikey’s toe the other day, but I think I could be quicker and not nearly as sloppy if I practice.  Why were you out so late?”

            Raph came further into the room and shrugged.  “Leo pissed me off, and I didn’t wanna look at his face across the dinner table.”

            “He ‘pissed you off’?” Don repeated.  “You’d better not let Master Splinter hear your newly acquired language skills.”

            “Yeah, well I’m already gonna get punished for stayin’ out this late, so I might as well go for broke,” Raph said with a chuckle.

            “You’re in a fatalistic mood tonight,” Don murmured, returning to his stitching.

            Raph walked over and leaned a hip against the worktable, his eyes fixed on Don’s hands.  All of them had taken lessons from Don on how to sew stitches, but Don’s fingers were by far the most nimble.

            “If that means I don’t give a crap, then yeah, I guess I am,” Raph said.

            “That must have been some fight,” Don observed lightly.

            Raph grinned.  He liked talking to Don, his smart brother had a way of asking questions without really prying, and leaving the options open on whether Raph wanted to discuss it or not.

            “It’s that same old shit he pulls when he’s like ‘my way is the only way’.”  Raph snorted.  “Let him go topside some time into the real world and see how well that works.  Up there ya’ attack first or they eat ya’.”

            “Mmm,” Don hummed noncommittally.  He had completed a row of stitches, and had begun a new one, using a different method from the first.  “Is that what you spend your time doing, observing how humans behave?”

            “Sorta.”  Raph scratched his cheek.

            This was the perfect entry into the subject he wanted to talk about, but he took a moment to think about what he was going to say.  He was pretty sure that his brothers all knew about his stash of porn, although no one had dared bring it up to him.

            For his part, Raph tried to be careful about when and where he took care of the business that looking at his porn brought up, and he did mean _up_.  A slanted little smirk stretched his upper lip; one thing he had bragging rights to was the fact that his dick was bigger than any of his brothers.

            “So I got a question for ya’ brainiac,” Raph began, using his new pet name for his brother.

            Don nodded, maintaining his concentration on his stitching.  This was good practice for him, operating while someone was talking was basic battlefield conditions.

            “Go ahead and ask, I’ll see if I can come up with an answer,” Don said.

            “What are we supposed ta do about sex if there ain’t any female turtles,” Raph asked bluntly.

            “Ow!” Don yelped, stabbing his finger with the needle.

            Raph had to laugh as Don lifted the finger to his mouth to staunch the flow of blood.

            “What the shell?” Don blurted, slightly flabbergasted at the question.

            “Sex Donatello.  Ya’ do know what that is, don’t ya’?” Raph asked, still wearing a smug smile at having gotten a reaction out of the mellow turtle.

            “Yes wise guy, I know what sex is,” Don answered, inspecting his finger.  “First of all, I should address the ‘if’ in your question.  The odds of female red eared slider turtles mutating in the same ooze that produced us is astronomically infinitesimal.”

            “Pardon me for not phrasing the question correctly, smart ass,” Raph said.  “So talk ta me about sex, and don’t give me any shit about how our minds must transcend our body’s needs.  That’s the kind of crap I expect ta hear from Leo.”

            Don’s mind flashed back to nearly two years ago, when he’d taught Mikey how to masturbate.  He was pretty sure Raph didn’t need any assistance in that department.

            “I don’t suppose your own hand is a good enough answer,” Don ventured.

            “I’m happy ta find out ya’ know about that kind of stuff, Donatello,” Raph told him, chuckling.  “Is that your solution?  I’m supposed ta spend eternity satisfied by masturbating?”

            “What else do you want me to say?” Don asked.  “Even for humans there aren’t any guarantees.  Just because there are no females of our species doesn’t mean we’re doomed to be alone.  Human women come in all different types; someday maybe you’ll meet one who has a thing for mutated turtles.”

            “I ain’t gonna hold my breath,” Raph muttered.

            “Did you wander in here at this time of night expecting me to have some sort of magical answer?” Don asked him.  “We’re fifteen, Raph.  The world isn’t going to end tomorrow and things have a way of working themselves out.”

            “Yeah,” Raph heaved a big sigh, his gold eyes darkening just a little.

            The evening he’d just spent watching hookers wrap their legs around their latest paying customer and listening to the moans and grunts that followed had left him half hard under his shell.  He should have taken care of the problem before coming home, but the need to talk to his brother was stronger than the other need.

            He contemplated Donny from under lowered eye ridges.  His brother had resumed his task of stitching the stuffed animal, apparently oblivious of Raph’s perusal.

            Raph really wished he could understand why being with Don had seemed to be such an overwhelming imperative when he was so damned horny.  Now he would have to spend a sleepless and unsatisfied night, or attempt to jerk off silently underneath his blankets.

            The look in Raph’s eyes did not go unnoticed by the intelligent turtle.  Don’s pulse quickened just a little as he pretended to ignore the fact that Raph was staring at him.  If the subject of their conversation hadn’t been a dead giveaway to Raph’s thoughts, the very masculine scent that was coming off of the red banded turtle surely was.

            After about ten minutes, Raph took a deep breath and said, “I’m gonna get some sleep.”

            Don looked up quickly, letting that deep, burnished gold burn him with its intensity.

            “Yeah, me too in a little bit.  ‘Night Raph,” he said, striving to sound normal.

            Raph strolled out of the room and over to his bed.  Sitting on the edge, he stripped off his gear as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t disturb Mikey.  A little smile curved his lips as he looked down at his younger brother, Mikey’s face roguish even in his sleep.

            For some reason, the word ‘wife’ came to his mind, and he chuckled lightly.  After his talk with Don, it appeared that Michelangelo was going to be the only one to ever wear that title.

            Lying back on his bed, Raph pulled the blankets up, and then as an afterthought, tossed a spare pillow across his lap.  It was too warm for either, but the business he needed to take care of probably wasn’t going to take all that long in the condition he was in.  He just wanted to make sure his movements weren’t too obvious in case someone woke up.

            Closing his eyes, he let his hand wander down his plastron as his mind played back that evening’s viewing pleasures.

            Mikey heard a low grunt from the bed next to him and opened one of his eyes slowly.  He had watched for Raph to come home, unable to sleep until he knew that his red banded brother was safe.

            When Raph went into Don’s lab, Mikey had tried really hard to hear what they were saying.  He was pretty sure he picked up the word ‘sex’ in their conversation and it had been difficult to stay in his bed after that.

            Don wasn’t the only intelligent turtle in the lair, and he didn’t hold the market on understanding things either.  Mikey understood quite well what those looks Donny shot at Raph meant, even if Raph was totally oblivious.

            Mikey’s eyes both opened when he saw that Raph had his firmly closed.  Following the line of Raph’s body downwards, Mikey could see the convulsive movements beneath the blanket and he knew what Raph was doing.

            “ _Good_ ,” Mikey thought, transfixed by the jumping blanket.  “ _At least he isn’t going to Don for help with that._ ”

            Burrowing further into his own covers, Mikey cupped a hand over the bulge in his plastron as he watched and listened to Raph.  If he was any judge, it wasn’t going to take long for Raph to finish himself off; then he’d fall asleep.

            If it weren’t for Donatello just in the other room, Mikey might have crawled over to Raph’s bed and offered him an alternative to playing a lone hand.  One that would be mutually satisfying to both of them.

            Mikey would just have to keep that idea in reserve.  Donatello wouldn’t always be the last one awake at night, and Raphael would surely go to bed needy again.  Mikey was an opportunist if nothing else; his chance would roll around.

            The thought that his idea was completely inappropriate between brothers never entered Mikey’s mind.

TBC……


	11. Part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 3,257  
> Rated: R  
> Summary: Moving to a new lair means leaving some things behind, but Raph refuses to give up the one thing that will make Mikey happy.

            Donatello was partially wrong; at the age of fifteen the world didn’t end, but it certainly did change for their small family.

            The Mousers were responsible for the metamorphosis.

            Master Splinter had worked hard to teach his sons that they needed to become one with the shadows; shadow warriors never to be discovered by the outside world.  Darkness gave the ninja power, he had told them; the darkness of anonymity kept them safe.

            Those small robotic creatures came into their lives and destroyed their home, separating the Father from his children.  As he awaited them, Fate intervened and allowed him to discover a new home.

            His sons however, were doing the one thing he most disapproved of; they were travelling above ground and were no longer invisible.

            And here once again, Fate intervened.  From that day forward, their lives were inextricably linked with those of April O’Neill, Baxter Stockman, the Purple Dragons, the Foot and eventually to the discovery of an old and hated enemy, the Shredder.

            Leonardo began to shine in his new light as leader, giving his brothers direction and focus.  He made decisions quickly and with a great deal of foresight, allowing honor and duty to guide him.

            Donatello’s intellect and resourcefulness were powerful assets to their team and Leonardo called on him often.  Even in the midst of the heaviest battles, Donatello was cool headed as his rapid mind sought out solutions to even the most difficult dilemmas.

            Raphael earned the nicknames ‘hot head’ and ‘maniac’, his aggressive and brash actions often pushing Leonardo’s patience up to and over its limit.  When Raphael shoved, Leonardo shoved back.  Master Splinter interrupted when things got too far out of control, but for the most part, he stood back and observed how his sons would handle the clash of personalities.

            Michelangelo’s basic character was unaffected by all of the changes; still as energetic, light-hearted and irreverent as ever.  He was also quite charismatic; his quips and jokes lifted his family’s mood when they most needed it.  The youngest proved to be very ingenious as well, often ferreting out solutions to problems simply by thinking outside of the box.

            The move to the new lair seemed to excite his children, and for Master Splinter the new larger space was an opportunity for him to give his sons the one thing he felt they most needed in their mid-teens; their own bedrooms.

            His sons were quite happy with this added luxury, quickly claiming spaces to call their own.  In fact, Michelangelo made several choices.             However, once a hard rap to the back of his head from Raphael’s hand reminded him that he could only have one room, he of course chose the one closest to the abusive sibling.

            Donatello worked nearly around the clock to modify their new home, finding a way to install an entire array of televisions, much to the delight of his youngest brother.  He spent so much time creating things for their use that he often forgot to eat or sleep.

            Master Splinter and the rest of his family began to monitor the amount of time the genius spent on various tasks, often having to remind him to rest or take in food.

            They all had to admit, Donatello’s tinkering was a great boon to their lifestyle.  And as he had always done, Donatello continued to accommodate Michelangelo’s every whim.

            Except for the one that Michelangelo wanted most of all.  That desire was out of Donatello’s control.

            “Did they get it?” Mikey asked, rushing up to Donatello.

            Don was unpacking a box that Leo and Raph had brought back from their final run to the old lair.  They wouldn’t risk another trip; the walls were crumbling and what remained of the roof had nearly collapsed this last time.

            “Get what, Mikey?” Don asked without looking at him.  “I saw Leo give you the box full of your DVD collection.”

            “Raphie, did they get Raphie?” Mikey asked again, this time a little breathlessly.

            “What?” Don finally pulled his head up to stare at his brother.  “Raph came back with Leo.”

            “Not that Raphie,” Mikey said, giving Don an impatient glare, “the other Raphie.  You know, the wooden dummy?  I mean, more wooden than the one that talks.”

            “Ahh,” Don said as he began to understand.  “Raph’s training dummy.  No Mikey, I’m afraid they weren’t able to salvage it; the thing is buried too far underneath the collapsed section of the old lair.”

            “No, no, no,” Mikey chanted in his unhappiest tone.  “It can’t be.  We have to think of a way to get it out of there.”

            “I suppose by ‘we’ you mean ‘me’,” Don quipped, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry, but some things are beyond my abilities.  I can’t lift several tons of steel, concrete and brick to save a wooden dummy that’s probably shattered to pieces anyway.”

            “It’s not, I just know it’s not,” Mikey told him.  “I can feel it.”

            “You can _feel_ a wooden dummy?” Don asked incredulously.  “Look Mikey, we lost a lot of important things in that collapse, but we have each other and that’s what matters.  No one is going to risk their life to try to pull a block of wood out of the old lair.”

            “That’s just not right,” Mikey said, a petulant look on his face.  “I’d rather have lost my DVD’s than Raphie.”

            “I never knew it meant that much to you,” Don said as he stared at his brother.  “You certainly didn’t practice on it very often.”

            “Raph did.  We grew up watching Raph beat on Raphie.  It’s not fair to lose something that is so important to Raph,” Mikey insisted.

            Don reached over and placed a hand on Mikey’s shoulder.  “Look bro’, I know you spent hours watching Raph workout with the wooden dummy and those are special memories for you.  But Raph hasn’t said a word about it, so I don’t think it’s loss really matters to him if that’s what’s worrying you.  Besides, Master Splinter just sewed together that new cloth practice dummy, so Raph has something to work out his frustrations on.”

            “Cloth,” Mikey said, disdain dripping from his mouth.  “That thing won’t last.  Raph needs the wooden one.  Maybe I should try to find it myself.”

            “No!” Don almost shouted, his hand gripping Mikey more tightly.  “Promise me you won’t try to go back to the old lair and dig that thing out by yourself Mikey.  You’ll get hurt or worse.”

            Mikey looked at him without saying anything and Donatello shook him gently.

            “Promise me, Mikey,” he said once more.

            “Fine,” Mikey said, making a face at his older brother.  “I promise.  I don’t have to be happy about it, do I?”

            Don smiled gently at him.  “Look, how about I make a new ‘Raphie’?  That old thing needed an upgrade anyway.  I could create a much nicer one now, and you could surprise Raph with it.”

            Mikey shook his head, slipping out of Don’s grasp.  “Nah, don’t worry about it,” he said softly.  “It wouldn’t really be the same, you know?”

            Don watched Mikey walk away, his head down in a dejected manner.  It made Don feel badly that he couldn’t solve this particular problem for his youngest sibling, but maybe it was a good lesson for both of them.  Don wouldn’t always be able to provide the things his brother wanted, and Mikey wouldn’t always be able to get those things.

            Unbeknownst to the both of them, Raphael had overheard the entire conversation.

            Listening to his brothers trying so hard to work out a solution to give Raph something they thought he would be sad to lose made a knot form in his gut.  The red banded turtle was a lot more sentimental than his brothers realized.

            Raphael had tried to retrieve that wooden practice dummy the last time he and Leo went back to the old lair.  He’d searched in the area where it usually stood, but a large part of the ceiling had come down at the spot, and he couldn’t get around it.

            When Leo said it was time to leave and that it wasn’t safe to go back there again, Raph had been angry enough to slam his fist into a support pillar.  That hadn’t helped the stability of the walls and ceiling one bit, but Raph hadn’t cared at the time.

            The look on Mikey’s face was haunting Raph and with that on his mind, he went looking for Leo.

            He found his brother in their new kitchen, brewing a pot of tea.  Leo glanced over his shoulder at Raph’s approach, and when he saw the purposeful stride, he turned completely around.

            “We’re goin’ back ta the old lair,” Raph announced in a voice that brooked no argument.

            “It isn’t safe there anymore, Raph,” Leo said, in spite of the look on his brother’s face.

            “Ya’ can go with me or not, ‘s up to ya’,” Raph told him, “but don’t ya’ try and stop me.  I’m gonna get the practice dummy out from under that slab of concrete, ‘cause I don’t think it got crushed.”

            Leo sighed and reached over to turn off the burner underneath the tea pot.

            “I suppose there is a good reason for this sudden need to go out and do something that’s both asinine and crazy?” Leo asked.

            “Yeah,” Raph said, turning to leave the kitchen and assuming that Leo would follow.  “Mikey is upset ‘cause we couldn’t get the damn thing and I don’t wanna listen to him whine about it for the next three or four days.”

            “Ri~ght,” Leo murmured as he trailed his hot headed brother.

            He knew Raph hated for Mikey  to be sad about anything and that had nothing to do with whether or not Mikey whined.  Both Donny and Raph had a tendency to spoil Michelangelo, which always wound up making Leo look like the bad guy.

            “Someday Mikey does need to learn to deal with disappointment,” Leo said mildly.

            “Yeah, well if I kill myself trying ta rescue ‘Raphie’ for him, then you’ll have proved your point,” Raph said, leaping into the slider and starting it up.  “Until then, I’m gonna try ta’ keep him happy.”

            Leo jumped in next to him, and got a solid grip on the dashboard.  “Just try not to kill both of us, bro’,” he said as Raph accelerated quickly.

            The old lair was just as they had left it earlier, on the verge of total collapse.  Raph slowed the slider, landing gently and further away than they had on previous occasions so as not to shake any of the still standing supports.

            He and Leo stepped gingerly past the piles of rubble to inspect the area where the practice dummy had stood.  Eyeing the fallen slab of concrete and noting how it slanted away from the wall, Leo had to admit it might be possible that ‘Raphie’ had survived.

            “Let’s pull some of these rocks away from the sides here and see if we can get a look underneath,” Leo suggested, going to work on his edge of the slab.

            “Yeah,” Raph agreed, plucking a large piece of broken concrete from the top of a pile.

            Within a few minutes, Leo could see light shining through from Raph’s side of the giant slab.

            “There’s an open pocket under here,” Leo told him.

            “Could we, I don’t know, snake a rope or something around this piece of concrete and pull it back?” Raph asked as he stared at the slab.

            Leo shook his head while he contemplated the angle and position of the slab.

            “No, I wouldn’t want to take that chance.  It might be all that’s holding the wall up.  Maybe if Donny were here, he could figure out how to engineer that kind of attempt.  I think our best bet would be to keep clearing one of the sides enough to crawl under,” Leo said.

            “Once we get under this thing, we better move quick,” Raph said as he worked to move some more of the rubble.  “I don’t feel like wearing this concrete as a hat.”

            Leo joined Raph on the other side of the slab and they worked together to clear an area large enough for them to crawl through.  Raph went down on his hands and knees and slipped partway inside while Leo shone his flashlight into the space.

            “I see it!” Raph called back excitedly.  “It’s still standing and looks like it only lost part of one arm.”

            “Can we get to it without hitting anything that’ll bring this slab down on top of us?” Leo asked.

            “Yeah, it’s clear over there, just some bricks on the ground.  I’m going in,” Raph said as the bottom half of his body disappeared from view.

            Leo squatted down and played his flashlight around inside.  He could see that Raph had gotten to his feet, walking towards the wooden dummy in a bent over position to accommodate the fallen slab overhead.

            Crawling through the small opening, Leo made his way over to Raph.

            “If we turn it sideways, we can angle it out through the opening,” Leo said as he judged the dummy’s size in comparison to the opening they’d made.

            Raph was tugging at the supports that held the practice dummy to the brick wall.  “Shell, I didn’t realize how tightly Donny secured this ta the wall.”

            Leaning against it, Raph tried to shove it away from the wall.  The brackets held, and with a frustrated grunt, he then attempted to slip his fingers in far enough to pull it loose.

            Giving that up, Raph was just reaching for his sai when he felt a tap on his shoulder.  Looking up, he saw Leo standing next to him holding a crowbar.

            “This might help,” Leo said with a grin.

            “Smug bastard,” Raph returned with a laugh, before swiping the crowbar from his brother’s hand.

            Leo held onto the wooden dummy as Raph slid the crowbar in behind it, finding the brackets with the thick metal head.  Bracing the crowbar against the wall, Raph pushed hard enough to pull the brackets loose.

            Between them they manipulated the wooden dummy out of the small space and onto the slider.  Just as they both climbed in, a loud rumble shook the ground and a large section of the lair’s roof collapsed.

            “Holy shit,” Raph muttered, waving a hand to clear the dust from in front of his face, “talk about your perfect timing.”

            “Talk about your crazy chances,” Leo corrected as he gazed at the ton of concrete that occupied the space they were just in.  “Let’s go home.”

            Their return to the new lair was without further incident.  Between them, Leo and Raph brought the wooden dummy inside and laid it on the ground near the spot that would become its new home.

            Just as they set it down, they both heard the sound of Mikey’s voice.

            “Raphie?”  The youngest brother looked down from the second floor, his eyes blinking as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. 

            Realizing that it was real, he yelled, “Raphie!”

            Raph’s smile was huge as he watched Michelangelo leap down to the floor below.  The orange banded turtle was running almost before his feet touched the ground.

            He wasn’t going for the wooden dummy though; Mikey was coming straight at Raphael.

            “You got him!” Mikey jumped at his brother, almost knocking him down.

            Mikey’s arms went around Raph’s shoulders and he pulled the hot head into a tight embrace.

            Raph was laughing as he returned the hug.  “Yeah, I got him ya’ spoiled rotten brat.”

            “I knew you couldn’t leave him behind,” Mikey said, his voice slightly muffled as he dug his face into Raph’s neck.  “I knew he means as much to you as he does to me.”

            “Okay, okay,” Raph said.  “Leo helped ya’ know.”

            “It was you though; you made him go,” Mikey told him, pressing his body closer to his brother’s.

            Mikey was right up against Raph’s plastron, pushing so hard that Raph could swear he felt the beat of his little brother’s heart.  The rasping sound their plastrons made as they rubbed against each other made Raph’s body heat up suddenly.

            Raph realized he was hyper aware of every part of Mikey’s body as it touched his.  He could feel the ripple of Mikey’s thigh muscles pressed against his own, the soft skin on Mikey’s exposed sides where Raph’s arms touched them. 

            Mikey’s warm breath on his neck made his skin tingle and something that felt like an electric jolt shot straight down Raph’s body to his groin.  Turning his head towards his brother’s, Raph inhaled deeply of Mikey’s unique musk and then shivered.

            Feeling the shiver, Mikey tightened his hold and squeezed his eyes shut.  He hadn’t gotten to hold Raph like this in such a long time and he didn’t want to let go.

            Raph could feel eyes on him and he looked up to see Don staring at them.  His genius brother’s face was a study in concentration, and Raph could almost believe that Don was reading his reaction to Mikey’s nearness.

            Not far from Don stood Leo and it was the expression on his face that brought Raph back to reality.  Leo looked damned smug, one corner of his mouth lifted as though he’d just uncovered some great secret.

            “All right ya’ nut ball, ya’ can stop squeezing the air out of me,” Raph said in a raspy voice.

            “Don’t wanna,” Mikey murmured against Raph’s skin.

            All Raph wanted to do at that declaration was hold his brother as well.  The feeling in his gut was turning into a tap dance that travelled to another part of his anatomy, and it really felt pretty damn good.

            It was the sound of Master Splinter’s cane that finally broke the tableau.  Raph heard his Father coming and shoved Mikey away.

            Striding over to Don, Raph asked in a deep voice, “Hey brainiac, can ya’ get this dummy up on the wall for me?”

            “Sure bro’,” Don said, glancing once more at Mikey before turning to walk with Raph.  “Let me grab some tools.”

            Mikey watched them leave, his heart pounding in his chest.  His craving for Raph’s touch only seemed to be intensifying with age and although he didn’t really understand it, he wasn’t going to fight it either.

            “Mikey,” Leo called from the doorway into the dojo.  “Would you like to spar a bit with me?”

            The youngest would have liked to stay and help install ‘Raphie’, but he remembered that Leo had helped to retrieve the wooden dummy.  If he could hug Raph for his part in the rescue, then Mikey could certainly spare a half hour for Leo.

            “Yeah, sounds like fun,” he said, trotting over to join his oldest brother.

            Leo stood aside as his little brother passed him, watching the smooth glide of his muscles and the easy gait that hinted at Mikey’s underlying agility.

            As much as Leo enjoyed the challenge of sparring with Raph, it was Michelangelo who always proved to be his biggest test.  When Mikey focused on their contest, Leo was forced to use every technique he had ever learned, every bit of speed in his body, and all of his cunning to win.

            Leonardo really liked how Mikey could push him to his limits and beyond.  He also really liked the way Mikey’s sweat drenched skin felt beneath the palms of his hands.

TBC……


	12. Part 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 1,978  
> Rated: R adult concepts/situations, language, suggestive behavior  
> Summary: Raph's inner turmoil breaks to the surface, unleashed by conflicting desires.  
> Pairing: Raph/Mikey

            Meeting April O’Neill had changed the entire Hamato clan.

            She was their first real human contact and she had accepted them for what and who they were, becoming more than a friend to the turtles; she became their sister.

            Master Splinter had sensed a rare quality in the human woman immediately and he was most pleased when she proved to be both loyal and trustworthy.

            Her intelligence and sharp wit provided Donatello with something he desperately needed, a soul mate of sorts who could converse with him on his level.  Her wit was not the only thing that was sharp; her tongue also had a razors edge and she was more than willing to let Master Splinter’s sons know if they were stepping out of line.

            Master Splinter watched carefully as his children each developed a crush on the woman, though the type and severity differed with each boy.

            For Leonardo it was her interest in learning ninjitsu that attracted his attention.  She had asked that Master Splinter train her and since she proved to be quite physically adept, he had agreed.  Leonardo quickly stepped into the role of mentor and was immediately entranced with April’s intensity.

            Michelangelo was captivated by her connection to the outside world.  The youngest always had a seemingly endless supply of questions to ask her, and she showed great patience in attempting to answer them.  April also bought Mikey his first brand new comic book, much to his enthusiastic delight.

            April’s mind and the interests she shared with Donatello kept her in his company the most often.  Normally quiet and reserved, Donatello could become quite garrulous in April’s presence.  For her part, April was as fascinated with their resident genius as he was with her; she told him often that while Baxter Stockman was known the world over as a brilliant man, Donatello surpassed him in raw ability and intellect.

            Of the four, Raphael was the one attracted to April in the most conventional context.  He was the turtle who had first discovered the joys of viewing the female anatomy and the one given to daydreams of rescuing a damsel in distress with all its accompanying rewards.

            They _had_ rescued April, and though it was obvious she wouldn’t be thinking of them as anything other than friends, Raph was still hopeful.

            Master Splinter could smell the odor of desire that emanated from his children as they grew older; its scent was musky and strong.  It pained him that there was no solution he could provide for this particular aspect of their lives.

            If by chance Miss O’Neill had shown that type of interest in one his sons, Master Splinter would have turned a blind eye.  He would have been happy to let them, even one of them, experience the joy of a physical relationship if the opportunity had presented itself.  With Miss O’Neill it had not.

            Those wildly raging hormones had their strongest effect on Raphael.  Already the son whose emotions floated closest to the surface, the addition of testosterone only exacerbated the problem.

            And as much as Raphael adored Michelangelo, sometimes the hormones and the frustration combined to create a raging monster.  Michelangelo had an unfortunate way of poking the monster until it woke up.

            “Ha, nice fall Raphael,” Mikey teased, watching Raph extricate himself from the cardboard boxes he’d just landed on.  “Just come on back if you want some more of that.”

            “You’ve had it Mikey,” Raph pointed at his brother.

            Mikey casually blew on his knuckles and eyed Raph.  Raph leaped at him, swinging while still in mid-air.

            Ducking aside, Mikey avoided the punch and said, “Good reverse punch.”

            Leaping, weaving and jumping to avoid every move Raph made, Mikey continued to goad him, “Nice roundhouse kick too, Raph.  Whoa, not a bad dragon punch either.  But you’re just a little  . . . too . . . slow!”

            Mikey smacked Raph’s carapace hard, sending his brother careening into the brick ledge that surrounded the pool.

            “Actually, much too slow,” Mikey said, hands on hips.

            Raph turned to snarl at him and dashed forward, throwing a punch that caught Mikey and sent him skidding backwards.  Mikey stood up; rubbing his head as Raph ran at him, arms swinging.

            Mikey ducked aside, dodging Raph’s attempts to hit him again.  As Raph missed for the third or fourth time, Mikey back flipped away from him.

            “You think you’re better than me?” Raph yelled as he chased Mikey down.  “Do you?”

            Their hands clasped above their heads, the brothers pushed against each other for a second before Mikey twisted to the side and threw Raph past him.  Raph flipped once and came down carapace first onto a table, splintering it into small pieces.

            “No, you’re just too cocky, Raph.”  Mikey turned and walked towards where Master Splinter, Don and Leo stood, his hands lifted overhead in a triumphant gesture.  “Winner and still champion, Michelangelo!” he crowed.

            Raph reached down and picked up a piece of lead pipe.  He wasn’t even thinking anymore, anger had gotten control of his better judgment.

            “No, no  . . . you  . . . you  . . . .” Raph growled, rising and then leaping at Mikey’s exposed back.

            Leo’s hand came down on Master Splinter’s shoulder in stunned amazement and his Father’s eyes grew wide.  Mikey heard something, because he turned just as Raph’s feet came down, catching Mikey squarely in the center of his plastron.

            Mikey hit the floor, grabbing at Raph’s foot when he went down.  “Raph, wait, wait!”

            Raph saw Mikey lift his arms to cover his face, but the hand that was holding the lead pipe went up and back anyway.  His eyes narrowed as the red haze of fury took over his body.

            Suddenly Leonardo was there, clutching his arm in an iron grip.

            “Raphael!” Leo said in his deeper ‘leader’s’ voice. “Have you lost your mind?”

            “Are you okay, Mikey?” Don asked, bent over the youngest.  He turned his head to look at Raphael.  “What were you thinking Raph?”

            Mikey’s hands slowly separated as he peeked out at his red banded brother, who was still crouched over him.

            Raph was breathing heavily, more frightened than he’d ever been in his entire life.  “I, Leo . . .” Raph dropped the pipe as Mikey sat up.  “Mikey  . . . I . . . .” Raph’s hand came up to cover his face.

            Leo released his hold and crossed his arms over his plastron.  Master Splinter stepped forward and placed a calming hand on Raph’s shoulder.

            “Ah, my son, so angry.  Rage is a monster that will destroy you from within.”  Master Splinter lifted his hand.  “Raphael, a true warrior finds balance in all things.”

            Raph stood up, staring at his hands as he gained his feet.  “Master Splinter  . . . I, I gotta . . . I, I gotta get some air.”

            As he ran from the lair, he didn’t see that Michelangelo had started to follow him, only to be stopped by their Father.

            Raphael ran fast and he ran hard, trying to outrun the image of Michelangelo lying on the floor beneath him, hands up to protect himself from Raph’s out of control rage.

            What he had just done was inexcusable and would have been even worse if his family, his _Father_ , had known what had happened the evening before.

            The night before, Raph had been comfortably seated on the couch, watching a ball game and completely relaxed.  He didn’t know where the rest of his family was and didn’t actually care; he had the television all to himself.

            When Mikey had appeared, Raph barely glanced at him.  Mikey hadn’t said a word; he just sat down on the couch next to Raph, turning his attention to the televised game.  For that small wonder, Raph was greatly pleased.

            After a half an hour or so, Mikey had tipped to the side and rested his head on Raph’s shoulder.  The position was so familiar that Raph put an arm around his little brother without really thinking about it.

            The game continued and Raph ignored Mikey, figuring his brother was falling asleep.  Mikey twisted a bit next to him, scooting closer until his thigh was right up against Raph’s.

            Raph felt the caress of Mikey’s breath on his collarbone and a familiar physical response strolled over his body.  It was exactly the same as the day that Raph had rescued ‘Raphie’, the wooden practice dummy, and Mikey had pulled him into a tight embrace as a thank you for the effort.

            His skin heating up, Raph shifted on the couch, turning his head slightly to see if moving would wake his brother.  Instead of a sleeping Mikey though, Raph found himself looking into a pair of wide open blue eyes.

            Mikey’s gaze was strangely hypnotic and Raph couldn’t tear his eyes away.  There was a small smile on his little brother’s face that seemed to draw him down; Raph found himself lowering his mouth towards Michelangelo’s.

            A warm hand found its way onto Raph’s thigh and the rough palm slowly stroked upwards, curving in slightly as it moved.  Raph’s legs fell open involuntarily; his golden eyes were fixed on Mikey’s lips.

            Just before they touched, Raph felt Mikey’s fingertips graze the softer area of his plastron, right between Raph’s thighs.

            Eyes snapping wide, Raph leaped backwards; away from Mikey and completely off of the couch.

            “What the shell . . . ?” Raph asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

            Mikey had tipped over when Raph jumped up and both of his hands were on the couch supporting his body.  He looked up at Raph with a puzzled expression.

            “Why’d you run away?” Mikey wanted to know.

            Raph spluttered before managing to spit out, “You  . . . we’re . . . damn Mikey!  We’re brothers!  What the fuck was that all about?”

            Mikey pushed himself upright.  “Aww come on, Raph.  You know you want to.”  He smiled disarmingly.  “We’re married anyway, remember?”

            Raph couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Pointing at Mikey, he said, “Yeah, I remember that Mikey.  I remember ya’ said ya’ wanted ta ‘play married’.  _Play_!  Got that?  As in not for real?”

            “It’s real to me, Raph,” Mikey said in a low voice.  “I’ve always known I wanted to be with you.”

            “Then you’d better snap out of it,” Raph barked.  “I ain’t gay.”

            “You worried someone will think you’re not manly enough if we get together?” Mikey asked.  “’Cause I doubt that sleeping with another guy has a direct effect on the ability to fight well.”

            “Shut up Mikey,” Raph said.  “This ain’t debatable.  You just better let it fuckin’ drop.”

            Mikey hadn’t pushed it further that night, but their extemporaneous sparring match the next day was a direct result of the prior evenings encounter.  Raph should have known Mikey wouldn’t be able to leave it alone; and Mikey’s toying with him as they fought didn’t help Raph’s temper one bit.

            Embarrassment, confusion and anger were all vying for Raph’s attention and the swirl of conflicting emotions boiling right at the surface was too much for the red banded turtle to handle.  It had ended with him nearly beating his kid brother’s head in with a lead pipe.

            Making his way to the surface and then up the inner staircase of a nearby building, Raph burst out onto the rooftop and stopped abruptly on the ledge.  He didn’t want to kill Mikey, he didn’t want to hit Mikey; he wanted to  . . . he wanted desperately and with every fiber of his being to  . . . to  . . .

            Raph wanted to fuck his brother.

            Filling his lungs with cool night air, Raph spread his arms to the sky and screamed, “What is wrong with me!”

TBC……


	13. Part 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,787  
> Rated: PG-13 adult concepts/situations, suggestive behavior  
> Summary: Casey Jones provides a major turning point in Raphael's life. Raph drifts away from Mikey but draws closer to Don. Leo steps in to let Mikey know that he needn't be alone.

            Casey Jones was big, bold, brash and bitter.  He was also vengeful, frustrated and angry.

            For Raphael, it was like looking in a mirror and seeing a human version of himself.

            The friendship the two forged proved to be advantageous to the both of them.  Raph was able to help Casey find the discipline and control that he lacked; giving him the ability to verbalize feelings that drove him towards recklessness.

            Casey helped Raph understand some things about himself and his own, at times, ungovernable temper.  Watching Casey the first night they had met made Raph understand how anger to the point of rage could make a guy go too far.

            His interactions with Casey also gave Master Splinter’s words a much greater meaning.  Balance in all things included finding a center point in the swirling waters of Raph’s mixed up emotions and clinging to that center as though it was a life raft.

            Meeting the volatile, uncouth, rough, and rugged Casey Jones was probably the single best thing that had ever happened to Raphael.  He became Raph’s life raft.

            Casey was a man’s man who just happened to feel the same angry confusion as Raph did.  The man’s out of control fury helped to ground Raphael and made the turtle better understand where his own anger was coming from.

            Trying to help Casey overcome the need to do rash and brutal things taught Raph that there were better ways to handle the confusion as well.

            The first thing Raph did when he returned to the lair after his fight with Mikey was to apologize to his brother.  He wasn’t sure if Mikey would ever speak to him again and he was feeling very jittery when he said he was sorry, but he forced himself to admit that he had been wrong.

            Raph had no idea what he would have done if Mikey’s warm blue eyes had become icy and if Mikey had turned away from him.  All he really knew was that no matter what it took, he would get Mikey to forgive him.

            When Mikey had just grinned and said, “Don’t sweat it”, Raph felt like his heart was going to burst.  It never failed to amaze him how rapidly and easily Michelangelo could bounce back from anything.

            Something in that pipe incident had changed Mikey though.  Raph noticed that although Mikey was as bouncy and carefree as he’d always been, he wasn’t as inclined to seek out Raphael’s company as he had done for most of his life.  Raph wasn’t sure if it was that momentary loss of control where he’d almost smashed Mikey’s head in, or if it was the rejection during the altercation preceding it, but Mikey behaved as if there had never been anything between them.

            Raph knew he should be happy about that; after all, he was the one who proclaimed that what Mikey wanted was wrong.  The problem was that Raph was still confused about his own feelings.

            During that time of turmoil, one thing remained constant and that was his brother Donatello.

            Michelangelo, with his usual powers of persuasion, talked Donatello into creating the Battle Shell.  It helped that he had inadvertently stumbled upon the hidden elevator, and that the elevator led to an abandoned storage space.  Mikey immediately drove home the point that the space would be a perfect garage.

            Don knew when he was defeated.  He would modify the armored car and give Mikey his dream vehicle; along with a few of Donatello’s patented modifications.

            Working with all of his brothers, Don altered the armored car in record time.  The Battle Shell was a work of art and a high tech masterpiece.  What his brothers didn’t know was that when they were breaking for food or sleep, Don was working on a little something extra.

            Donatello knew something had occurred between Raph and Mikey and that whatever it was had been partially to blame for the pipe incident.  Mikey had always been very aggressive about going after the things he wanted, and Don could guess what had probably occurred.

            Not one to take no for an answer, Mikey had goaded Raph to the point where Raph’s confusion and guilt made him explode.  Mikey was always repentant afterwards, but this was something a lot deeper than a simple fight over who had control of the remote.

            Don had given Mikey something he desperately wanted; now he would create something just for Raphael.

            When Raph was trying to explain to his brothers that Casey wasn’t a bad guy, he was just a little misguided; he had looked directly at Don for understanding.  It was something Raph had always done; looking to Donatello for confirmation or support was as natural as breathing was to the red banded turtle.

            Don wasn’t aggressive like Mikey, nor was he as stalwart as Leonardo.  Through everything that life had thrown their way, Don was as steady as a rock.  Raphael was drawn to him.

            During the Battle Shell’s maiden voyage the turtles found Casey riding his motorcycle in central park.  He was just where he said he’d meet Raph in order to finish their fight.

            When Raph wanted Donny to chase down Casey and his motorcycle, Don had grinned and said, “I whipped up something special for you.  It’s in the back.  Like it?  I call it the Shell Cycle.”

            Raph turned around to see the most beautiful motorcycle he had ever laid his eyes on.  Not only was it powerful and streamlined, it was his signature red in color, with a matching helmet to boot.

            “Donatello, you are the turtle,” were the only words Raphael could manage. 

            Heart pounding, Raph climbed onto that motorcycle and found a freedom he had never felt before thrum to life between his legs.  And it was all Donatello’s doing.

            With that motorcycle and his brothers, Raph had managed to reach Casey and they became fast friends.

            Casey confided a lot of things to Raph during that time.  His dad gone, Casey only had his memory to cling to and his own code of honor that Raph could appreciate.  During one of their many conversations, Raph had asked Casey what he thought his dad would think about the role of lone vigilante that Casey had embraced.

            “My old man was a stand-up guy,” Casey said.  “He taught me that evil is like a cancer that’ll keep on growing if no one fights it.  He said ya’ gotta do what’s right even if no one else will.”

            Raph liked that.  In Casey he found a hetero male role model and because of that, Raph spent an enormous amount of time with his new friend.  Raph hoped that Casey’s love of women would help him overcome the strange attraction he was feeling towards his own brother.

            The red banded turtle found himself wondering if a lifetime of nearly complete isolation had resulted in the unnatural feelings he’d been having.  Hormones and a lack of opportunities would certainly explain a lot of things.  Raph started to feel better about himself and less concerned about Mikey pulling away from him.

            As much as he and Casey shared, there were some topics that Raph couldn’t bring up to his human friend.  Casey could talk easily about prior relationships and about various women he had met; all that Raph could do was listen in silence.  The things Casey took for granted were things that Raph might never get to experience.

            Raph wanted to share his thoughts on the subject, but he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it to Casey; he was sure the virile human wouldn’t understand the type of rejection Raph had already experienced from the opposite sex.  Women didn’t scream and run at the sight of Casey Jones, even in his hockey mask.  And they certainly never called him a ‘green freak’.

            So Raph turned to that one constant in his life for the solace he required – Donatello.

            Donatello’s accessibility made talking to the genius so much easier.  Don was almost always awake and in his lab when Raph rolled in from a night out with Casey.  Raph’s feet would turn automatically to Don’s door; it became a late night pilgrimage.

            Raph would find a place to sit comfortably as Don puttered around and the red banded turtle would begin to talk.  Telling Donatello everything was such an ingrained habit from his childhood that Raph didn’t think twice about the inner secrets he was spilling.

            In fact, the only information he ever kept back from Don was the thing that had happened between Mikey and himself.  That was something he would never tell anyone.

            Michelangelo was the complete opposite of Raphael in that he unburdened himself to no one.

            The orange banded turtle waited up for Raphael on those nights when the older brother was running with Casey.  No one knew that Mikey was awake; he turned out his lights and feigned sleep if anyone came to check on him.  That vigil accounted for his inability to rise early when Leo called them down for practice; everyone thought he’d spent the night gaming or that he was just lazy.

            From inside his darkened room Mikey watched Raph return to the lair and go straight into Don’s lab.  Night after night.  Mikey suffered the pain of that in silence; he had already been rejected by Raph and had no intention of adding humiliation on top of that.

            Not that Michelangelo had any intention on giving up his Raphael; getting hit and bouncing back up was what he was famous for.  He was simply biding his time and gathering intelligence.

            Once or twice he used ninja stealth to steal downstairs and investigate what it was that Raph and Don were doing.  What he found eased his mind just a bit; it seemed that all the pair did was talk.  Or Raph talked and Donatello listened.

            Mikey wished like crazy that Raph wanted to spend time talking to him, but he understood.  Raph was simply too uncomfortable in an intimate setting if the brother with him happened to be Mikey.  He was extremely skittish when it came to being alone with Mikey.

            Michelangelo was also jealous of the time Raph spent with Casey Jones.  Mikey liked Casey just fine, though he thought that the man was a little crazier than the average human.

            When the turtles introduced Casey to April, Mikey saw the sparks fly immediately.  He was not an expert on love at first sight by any means, but if there was such a thing; Mikey was pretty sure it happened between their human friends.  The fact that those sparks were sometimes quite fiery mattered not at all; the other feeling was there and it was stronger than the clash of wills between the pair.

            Spending more time with April meant that Casey spent less with Raph and that suited Mikey just fine.  The problem was that Raph still went out; he simply went out alone.  Sometimes that was more worrisome than when he ran with his volatile buddy.

            Being fifteen and knowing what you wanted without being able to actually have it was trying.  Mikey had known for his entire life that Raphael and he were meant to be together.  His sexual preference didn’t bother him one iota; nor did the fact that Raph happened to be his brother.  Maybe those things had negative meanings to humans, but they weren’t human.

            The problem was that Raph had spent a lot of time on the edges of the human world and he now had a human best friend.  The ramifications of that weren’t missed by Mikey.  Raph wanted what his friend Casey had; life in the sun, freedom and the love of a good woman.

            Mikey wasn’t Don but he could still tell that the odds of that happening for any of them was zero to none.  However, that did not prevent Raph from being in denial and hence Mikey waited, alone and silent about his feelings in a house full of family.

            Finding solace in his comic books was one of the reasons Mikey spent so much time with them.  The fantasy world of heroes was his escape and Michelangelo dreamed big.

            Mikey was sitting on the floor in his room one evening next to a large stack of comics as he tried to forget about his unresolved desires for a little while.  His door was partway open and he didn’t hear the stealthy step that glided into his bedroom.

            A movement caught the corner of his eye and he looked up, startled.  Leonardo stood there, staring down at him with an enigmatic look on his face.

            “Hey bro’,” Mikey said, his mind jumping quickly through the day as he tried to pinpoint what infraction of his could have possibly warranted a personal visit from his oldest brother.

            “How are you, Mikey?” Leo asked in a low voice, his expression unfathomable.

            “Uh, fine,” Mikey answered, more puzzled than ever.  He had just seen Leo not twenty minutes ago at the dinner table.  “You wanna, um, read some comics with me?”

            The tiniest smile curved Leo’s mouth as he lowered himself to the floor, sitting cross-legged directly in front of Mikey, so close that their toes nearly touched.

            “Maybe later,” Leo said, holding Mikey’s eyes with his own.

            Leo’s gaze was intense and hard to meet, but it was also extremely hard to escape from once caught by it and Mikey had been caught.  Staring into those amber orbs made Mikey feel like someone trapped by the dance of a king cobra.

            “So, what’s up?” Mikey asked, his fingers fidgeting with a comic book.

            “That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Leo said.  “We never talk; I spend so much time practicing and you get so involved in your video games and this – “

            He waved a hand towards the comic book collection and Mikey was finally able to look away from his big brother’s eyes as he turned his head to follow the movement.

            “You want to talk?” Mikey asked, his tone indicating surprise.

            “I want you to talk,” Leo corrected, leaning just a little forward.  “I know something is bothering you; the others may not have noticed, but I have.”

            Mikey found that to be slightly unnerving.  “Dude, I’m fine.  Everything’s peachy.  I, uh, wouldn’t mind if you wanted to change the training schedule to a decent hour like, say ten a.m., but other than that everything is sweet.”

            Leo’s hand found its way onto Mikey’s knee, just above the protective padding.  “No, you aren’t fine,” Leo said.  “Something is wrong between you and Raphael; you’ve grown apart.  I know that when you were little he was your best friend and now he has a new one.  I don’t want you to think you haven’t anyone that you can confide in.”

            Leo’s thumb tightened on his little brother’s leg, and one of his fingers began moving back and forth across Mikey’s skin.  The caress was gentle yet unmistakable and Mikey’s eyes widened just a fraction.

            “That’s c . . . cool Leo,” Mikey stuttered as Leo’s eyes once more bored into his.

            Shifting position, Leo moved his entire body closer to Mikey’s, and now their legs _were_ touching.  Leo’s other hand came down on Mikey’s opposite leg and both hands slid further upwards along Michelangelo’s muscular thighs.

            Mikey’s first instinct was to lean back and away, but Leo’s mesmerizing stare held him firmly in place.

            “You aren’t alone Michelangelo.”  Leo’s voice was deep and husky.  “I will always be here for you.  You can come to me anytime; day or night.  Do you understand that?”

            Mikey started nodding and almost couldn’t stop doing so.  “Uh huh.  Gotcha.  Talk anytime.  Talk is good.”

            Leo smiled wistfully and leaned nearer, his face barely an inch from Mikey’s.  Mikey’s wide eyes followed his movements; his entire demeanor that of a deer caught in headlights.

            “Goodnight Mikey,” Leo said and closed the distance between them, brushing a whisper of a kiss to the corner of Michelangelo’s mouth.

            Then Leo was gone, just as suddenly and silently as he had come.  Mikey was so stunned he didn’t even see Leo stand up, much less walk from the room.

            Mikey didn’t move from his position for over an hour, sitting stiff and still as a statue.

            However, his mind was a whirlwind of activity as it played and replayed what had just occurred in his bedroom.  It didn’t matter how long he looked at the scene or from which view point, it always led him to the same conclusion.

            His big brother, the loner enigma named Leonardo, had just come on to him.

TBC…….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lovely comic depicting a scene from this chapter was created by the wonderfully talented MomoRawrr  
> 


	14. Part 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 3,299  
> Rated: R adult concepts/situations, suggestive behavior, mild TCest pairing for part 14: Don/Mikey  
> Summary: Leo is almost killed and the trip to the farmhouse to hide and recover becomes something more.

            Leonardo came very close to meeting death.

            It was that event more than anything that made the brothers all realize what Master Splinter had been trying to teach them their entire lives.  Their existence was going to be difficult and perhaps brutal, made so by the shear circumstance of what they were.

            They now had an arch enemy and a deadly foe.  He had tried to lure Leonardo over to the dark side and had nearly succeeded.  Despite his obvious maturity, Leo was still a teenager with only fifteen years of life from which to cull experiences.  It just wasn’t enough.

            Fortunately, Master Splinter had intervened to show Leo that he was about to answer a siren’s call.  Ashamed of his actions, especially about how he had argued with and nearly killed Raphael by tossing him off of a building, Leo defiantly turned down the Shredder’s offer.

            The insult from someone as lowly as a mutated turtle was too much for Oroku Saki, who did not take the rejection well.  They had all survived the ensuing battle, thanks primarily to Master Splinter’s skill and ingenuity.

            Unfortunately, the Shredder did not stay down and when he returned it was with a vengeance.  Catching Leo alone on the rooftops, Shredder’s minions beat him mercilessly.

            Shredder’s attempts to remove the rest of the clan from existence resulted in April losing her home and store.  With Leo near death, the group needed a safe place to take him, and so Casey drove them out to his family’s farmhouse.

            Seeing his oldest brother lying battered and broken on the couch was too much for the emotional Raphael.  In spite of their differences, Raph knew deep down that he needed the brother who was his leader.  Leo was the solid foundation that helped Raphael hold it together.

            Raph tried to hide his tears but his Father saw them and he attempted to offer the red banded turtle as much solace as he could.  Their sensei had then reached into Leo’s mind with his tale of the youngster’s battle to overcome fear.

            The story had given Leo that final push he needed to begin to fight his way back to his family.  Raph was both overjoyed and determined; swearing that he wouldn’t leave Leo’s side until the elder brother was fully recuperated.

            With Raph occupied by his self-proclaimed vigil, Donatello and Michelangelo found themselves spending a lot more time together.  Don’s usual distractions weren’t available; other than repairing the heating system, the oven and the water heater, there wasn’t much for him to do.

            Since none of those repair jobs took up very much time, Don began to take long walks with Mikey, exploring the woods around the farm and trying to be prudent about not being seen by the crazy neighbor or said neighbor’s pit bull.

            Mikey was not as careful when he was alone, and wound up drawing the attention of a crazed reality television monster hunter.  He, Don and Casey worked as a team to rid themselves of the woman and Mikey gained a new level of respect for the brother he tended to think of as a geek.

            While the free-wheeling Michelangelo and the studious Donatello were sharing an adventure, Raphael was busy with a project of a greater magnitude.

            Next to Leo’s bedside nearly round the clock, Raph was the first brother the eldest saw when he finally recovered enough to sit up.  Raph brought him food and the tale of what had happened during their fight with Shredder, as Leo had been unconscious for a good portion of the battle.

            Leo’s body slowly recovered, but his spirit remained in a vacuum.  He ducked away from Raph’s attention and holed up in the barn, feeling sorry for himself. 

            Raphael watched him from a hidden spot just outside of the structure and came to understand that Leo was embarrassed.  Leo had let himself be trapped by the Shredder and his minions, he’d lost his swords, and his deepest feelings of worthlessness came from the belief that he had let his brothers down.

            Knowing he couldn’t allow Leo’s dejection to turn into a deeper depression, Raphael intervened.

            Firing up the old blacksmith bellows, Raph gave Leo some salvaged steel pipe and the motivation to forge himself a new set of swords.

            The work was hard, hot and tedious.  Leonardo had several books on the art of forging a katana, and both he and Raphael had studied them on numerous occasions.  Recalling as best they could the techniques used, the pair set about making serviceable weapons from the materials at hand.

            They did not have months to create the perfect set of swords, nor the proper equipment, but they were determined to do the best work possible.  To that end, Raph and Leo practically moved into the barn, sleeping in blankets tossed on top of hay and sharing meals while seated on the dirt floor.

            For the first time in years they didn’t argue or fight; instead they each took the time to gather a greater insight into one another.  Complete understanding was too far out of their grasp; they were infinitely different in many ways, but in others they were nearly the same.

            Raphael came to respect Leonardo’s persistence; the thing that drove his brother to strive for perfection in all things.  Leonardo in turn began to appreciate Raphael’s obstinance; the stubborn streak that kept his red banded brother from ever admitting defeat.

            While they worked they talked.

            “Raph, can I ask you a question?”  Leo was flexing his hand, the bandages newly removed.  Feeling more confident than he had in days, Leo was determined to broach a subject that he knew was probably going to be sensitive.

            “Yeah, sure Leo.  Ask away,” Raph said glibly as he stoked the fire.

            “What happened between you and Michelangelo?  Neither of you has been the same around each other since the pipe incident,” Leo said.

            Raph paused for a moment; then said blithely, “Ain’t the pipe incident enough?  I let my temper get the best of me and almost killed my baby brother.  Oh, and thanks for bringin’ that back up again.”

            Leo set the hammer aside and turned his attention fully on Raphael.  The radiance from the fire bathed Raph’s skin, making the emerald green seem to glow.  Its heat set a fine bead of moisture on top of the bigger turtle’s body, defining the bold musculature.

            Eyes narrowed, Leo felt as though he were seeing his hot headed brother for the first time, and his breath caught.

            Trying to disguise the warmth he was suddenly feeling, Leo said, “I think something precipitated that pipe incident, and I’m sorry to open that wound.  I just feel like neither of you has really healed from it.  I want us to always be close enough to keep those kinds of injuries from festering.”

            “Don’t worry about it, Leo,” Raph said, looking up to see his brother staring at him.  “Okay?  It’s just something between me and Mikey and we’re workin’ through it.”

            A spark came and went in Leo’s eyes.  “Mikey has always had a special bond with you.”

            Raph shrugged.  “I was overprotective of him when we were kids.  Ya’ remember how he was always clinging ta me.  It’s just habit and he’s growin’ out of it.”

            “I don’t like to see Mikey get hurt,” Leo said in a low tone.

            Something in his voice made Raph turn around.  Leo’s face was as inscrutable as ever, but Raph, whose raw instincts were especially sharp, knew there was something his brother was hiding.

            “Ya’ that worried about me too, bro’?” Raph asked, his voice becoming husky.  He wasn’t sure what it was about Leo that made his voice drop that way, but he meant to find out.

            Leo’s eyes became rich amber pools for Raph to drown in.  Staring back at his brother, Raph refused to let the viper’s allure pull him in to his big brother’s trap.  This was a trick Leo had learned at an early age, and while it worked on Mikey and Don, Raph had his own indomitable willpower to fight with.

            “I worry about all of you,” Leo finally answered, wrestling with the golden gaze that was his greatest ally and his biggest foe.

            “But ya’ suddenly got an urge ta oversee Mikey’s well-being, that it Leo?” Raph asked, pushing against Leo’s iron resolve.

            “It’s possible I do want to take more of a vested interest in his welfare,” Leo said.  “That shouldn’t bother you since you’ve clearly chosen not to have him ‘clinging’ to you any longer.”

            Raph wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.  There was something in Leo’s voice, his eyes and his entire demeanor that Raph could only read as _hunger._ Raphael had always been a little fascinated by Leo; he was the most mysterious member of the family.

            But this Raph recognized; Leo’s insatiable appetite for something he wanted desperately.  He had wanted to be leader and had turned himself into the perfect son, the perfect shadow warrior and the perfect ninja in order to attain that goal.  His desire to be the best had even drawn the Shredder’s attention.

            “Ya’ ain’t got enough Leo?  Now ya’ want Mikey too?” Raph asked, his voice a deep caress.

            “You don’t,” Leo said flatly.  “Isn’t that why you two had that fight?  Mikey knows what he wants; he always has.  Turn him loose Raphael.”

            Raph’s emotions warred with each other.  If he was understanding Leonardo correctly, his oldest brother wanted from Mikey what the youngest had hoped to get from Raphael.

            Leo would treat Mikey right; Raph knew that.  Since Raph had told Mikey he didn’t lean in that direction, the thought of Leo moving in to take his place shouldn’t be bothering him, but it was.

            With a sudden stab of what he knew had to be irrational jealousy, Raph decided he didn’t want his Mikey to belong to Leonardo.  The problem was that Raph wasn’t really sure what to do about it.

            Raph could tell by the look on Leo’s face that his brother was reading him and he was slightly irked by that fact.

            “I ain’t his keeper,” Raph growled.

            “You aren’t letting go, are you?” Leo asked, a corner of his lip curving upward.  He took a step toward Raph without meaning to; the emerald turtle’s stubbornness always seemed to pull him.

            “You ain’t making any sense, Leo,” Raph told him.  There it was again, that low level hunger that Raph had sensed earlier.

            “Someday you’ll stop denying yourself _brother_ ,” Leo said.  “I’ll be there when it happens.”

            Turning back to his hammer, Leo began to work the now cooled metal, behaving as though their conversation hadn’t happened.  Raph continued to watch him for several long moments before returning to his own job.

            He didn’t forget though.  The knowledge that Leo’s latest hunger was for their youngest sibling wouldn’t leave his mind, nor would the final promise.

            Because when Leo made it, Raph felt the hunger reach out for him, too.

=================

            “Are they still in the barn?” Mikey asked as he peered out of the window.

            “Yep,” Don answered, piling an extra blanket on his bed.

            Even with the fireplace going and the heat on, the open room in the loft where Don and his brothers slept was cold.  Mikey shivered and turned away from his viewing portal.

            “The blankets don’t help,” Mikey griped as he sat down on the edge of his bed.  “I was still freezing last night.”

            Don stopped what he was doing to look up.  Mikey was holding himself and staring morosely at the floor.

            “What’s your problem?” Don asked.  “You had a shell of an adventure this week and other than the deep freeze in the back of Dr. Finn’s truck, you haven’t seemed to be all that bothered by romping around in the snow.”

            “That’s the point, Donny,” Mikey said in his most sarcastic tone.  “Romping in the snow is fun because I’m _moving_.  Moving means I don’t get cold.”

            “You could always take up sleep walking,” Don told him.

            “Ha, ha.  Funny turtle,” Mikey responded.  “Remember when we were all little and slept in the same bed?  I was never cold then.”

            “I remember,” Don said, “that you moved around a lot and always managed to kick me in my face.”

            “I didn’t do it on purpose.  I was asleep,” Mikey pointed out.

            Don laughed.  “I know.  Look, I have an idea.  Why don’t we shove our beds together and share all of the blankets?  That should keep us warm.”

            “Not afraid I’ll kick you?” Mikey teased.

            “For a little warmth I’ll take my chances,” Don said.

            As they started to shove the beds together, Mikey asked, “What about Master Splinter?”

            Don made sure the beds were solidly against each other as he answered, “Sensei fell asleep downstairs on the couch.  He’s got that giant comforter and the fireplace to keep him warm.”

            “Not to mention all that fur,” Mikey said as he crawled into bed, pulling the blankets up to his neck.

            Doing likewise, Don shifted closer to his little brother.  Something in their mutation kept them from being completely cold-blooded, and the warmth emanating from Mikey’s skin called to him.

            Feeling Don draw nearer, Mikey followed suit, imagining he was a tot again.  Burrowing into their nest and surrounded by all three of his brothers had always been his favorite way to sleep.

            Thinking of his brothers made Mikey ask, “Donny, what do you suppose they’re doing down there?”

            Turning onto his side, Don studied Mikey for a moment before answering.  “Judging from the flickering light and the heat coming out of there, I’d say they’ve got the forge going.”

            “Oh.”  Mikey mulled that over for a second, and then said, “ _Oh_!  Swords?”

            “That would be my guess.  Leo’s trying to wallow and you know Raph doesn’t put up with that.  So either they fight, or they work together towards a common goal.”

            “I haven’t heard any yelling,” Mikey said happily.  Staring up at the ceiling, Mikey asked, “Donny, has Leo ever come to you and like, asked if you needed um, stuff?”

            Don frowned.  “What kind of stuff?”

            “Like, someone to talk to?”  Mikey was fidgeting with his fingers beneath the blankets and Don saw the movement, recognizing that Mikey was agitated by something.

            “He’s asked me if I’ve needed help with things,” Don said.  “And of course we talk some.  But he’s never asked if I _needed_ to talk.  Why did he ask you that?”

            “’Cause he said he thinks Raph and I aren’t close anymore and maybe I need someone to talk to,” Mikey explained.

            “And that’s been bothering you, his asking you that?” Don asked.

            “Yeah, sort of,” Mikey said.

            “Why?”  Don lifted himself on one elbow to look down at Michelangelo.  “That seems innocuous enough; why would that question bother you?”

            Mikey looked up into Don’s eyes.  Embarrassed by his conclusion, he nevertheless felt compelled to tell Don everything, just as his brother had trained him to do since they were small children.

            “I think he wants to be with me,” Mikey admitted in a voice barely above a whisper.

            Don stared down at Mikey, entranced by his unnatural blue eyes, and thought about what Mikey had just said.

            “Be with you as in sex, Michelangelo?” Don finally asked, wanting clarification.

            “Yeah.”  This time Mikey did whisper, and the sound made Donatello’s pulse race.

            “Mikey, why did you and Raph have that big fight?”  Don had broached the subject to Raph just once, and although Raph talked about almost everything else, that particular event was still taboo.

            “I tried to get Raphie to love me,” Mikey answered simply and Don understood everything.

            “Raph doesn’t think of you that way, does he?” Don asked.

            “No.”  Mikey’s eyes were starting to shimmer and Don knew he was more upset than he’d been letting on.

            “Mikey, do you even know what you would have done if Raph had agreed to ‘love you’?”  Don placed a comforting hand on Mikey’s stomach and began to rub slow circles on it.

            Mikey managed a grin.  “I only needed your help figuring out masturbation, Donny.  Geez, I’ve got a pretty good idea about the other stuff.”

            “And you’re positive you want to do that with Raphael?  He’s a guy just like you, and he’s your brother.” Don said.

            “Stating the obvious there, Donny,” Mikey said with a little hitch in his voice.  “Point out the female turtles and I’ll weigh my options.”

            “You can always choose abstinence,” Don told him.

            “I probably would if I wasn’t already in love with Raphie,” Mike said.  “Take back the female turtle comment; I wouldn’t choose one even if I did have the opportunity.”

            Don continued to pet Mikey’s plastron.  He had himself day dreamed about the red banded turtle; Raph was in fact his favorite masturbatory aid.

            But Raph was not the only brother he thought about in that way.  Mikey had always fascinated him as well; the youngest a complicated mixture of worldly knowledge and naiveté that Donatello found entrancing.

            Mikey may not have thought overly much about the fact that they were brothers, but Don had.  Whether or not they were actually genetically linked didn’t matter; Master Splinter had made them a family and pronounced them brothers.

            Their options for finding mates was greatly limited, although not completely impossible.  But it seemed that they were all, except for Raphael, uniformly drawn to each other.

            “I think our mutation may have predisposed us to certain physical and psychological compulsions, Mikey.  In other words, nature may actually mean for you and Raph to be together.”

            “And Leo?” Mikey asked.

            “Yes, Leo too,” Don said.

            He didn’t add that he had been feeling the same needs.  Mikey’s plastron beneath his hand felt extremely sensual, the slight scraping sound it made against the rough pads of Don’s fingers an almost blissful song.

            Mikey realized why Raph always went to talk to Donny and no one else; his genius brother was very easy to open up to.

            “So what should I do?” Mikey wanted to know.  “Do I just keep waiting for Raph?  I want him to be happy; but I don’t want to scare him off again.”

            A fire was growing in the pit of Don’s stomach as he continued to run his hand over Mikey’s upper body.  He didn’t want to take advantage of his brother, but he knew his need was going to become too much for him soon.

            “Mikey, do you want to practice a simple way to give Raph pleasure?  Something that doesn’t come on too strong and won’t embarrass him?” Don asked in a breathless undertone.

            The gentle play of Don’s hand across his scutes had gone unnoticed at first, but Mikey was slowly melting into the feeling.  He didn’t want it to stop; in fact, he was really wishing Don’s hand would move lower.

            “Okay,” Mikey said softly, amenable to anything at this point.

            “Then I’m going to touch you, and you’re going to touch me,” Don said, sliding his hand down Mikey’s center frontline.  “Instead of using your own hand, you’ll use mine.”

            “Ahh, ahh, o . . . okay,” Mikey said again with a soft groan as Don’s palm rubbed over the growing bulge beneath his plastron.

            “That’s right Mikey; just relax,” Don crooned, watching Mikey’s eyes slide shut as little shivers of enjoyment shook his body.

            Don smiled, continuing to move his hand as Mikey’s pleasure grew.  Tonight Donatello would give and he would take, but not too much.

            There was, after all, a time for everything and two other brothers that would need to be appeased.

TBC……


	15. Part 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 4,392  
> Rated: R adult concepts/situations, suggestive behavior, mild TCest, language  
> Summary: Months of battles, adventures, hardship and triumph bring the turtles back home, where their biggest challenge proves to be themselves.  
> Pairings: Raph/Mikey, Leo/Mikey, Leo/Don

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This cute little mini comic was created for this chapter by the gifted KameChuu and depicts Mikey's day.  
> 

            The Hamato clan moved with caution as they returned to New York and to their lair.  After three months in seclusion, they were prepared to find the sewer still occupied by the Shredders minions, but what they found instead was that the search for them had been abandoned.

            Master Splinter concluded that the Shredder believed them to all be dead.  His heart and mind told him that they would never live in peace if they did not take advantage of that fact in an attempt to put the Shredder out of their lives permanently.

            As a Father he knew that the task would be dangerous and deadly, but he had watched his sons grow up to become formidable ninjas.  Their abilities gave him the confidence to suggest they use the fact that they were apparently ‘dead’ in order to catch their adversary unawares.

            His sons were more than ready to fall in with the idea, and with the assistance of April O’Neill and Casey Jones, a plan was formulated and put into action.

            Leonardo took charge right from the outset.  Determined not to let his family down, he led them into the heart of the Shredder’s abode.  As they wound their way to the top of Oroku Saki’s stronghold they faced many enemies; human, cloned and other worldly.

            Raphael attempted to keep an eye on his youngest sibling, the protectiveness he felt when Mikey was little coming back as their battles grew more harsh.  However, Mikey proved he no longer needed to be protected; cocky and confident, the orange banded turtle breezed through each trial with an attitude and a grin.

            As it turned out, Raph found himself guarding Donatello’s back more than anyone else’s.  The genius seemed to take it for granted that Raph would be there; he didn’t even bother to turn around when Shredder’s clones almost took his shell off.  Raph’s excellent timing had kept Donny from being peeled alive, and Don had managed to get the elevator doors open in time to save everyone else.

            That was the essence of their most secret weapon; that ability to fight as a symbiotic unit.  It was something the Shredder would never understand and would never have an effective counteroffensive for.

            The battle was a decided victory for the turtles, but it was bittersweet.  Defeating the Shredder and Baxter Stockman, and disabling the Shredder’s evil technology would have made them extremely happy if Master Splinter had not gone missing.

            For the first time in their lives, the turtles found themselves without their Father’s guidance.  Unable to comprehend his inexplicable disappearance, they and their friends threw themselves into a frenzied search for him.

            While the others were content to draw maps and search grids, to comb the internet for tales of strange sightings, or to watch the hospitals and news outlets, Raphael was not.

            Raph required action; he needed to be constantly on the move.  Forced inactivity did not suit him and the longer their Father was missing, the more difficult it became to restrain Raph’s temper.

            Leonardo was the one who sensed the futility of arguing with his hot headed brother and suggested that Raph go topside to blow off steam.  The blue banded turtle watched him leave with some trepidation, but he understood his brother’s frustration enough to quash his own misgivings.

            When Raph returned several hours later he was more relaxed.  Donatello knew his brother’s moods well enough to know that something had happened while Raph was out, and rather hoped his sibling would come to him and share his adventure as he’d always done.

            But Raphael was not in the sharing mood.  Whatever had occurred had managed to give him only a few hours peace before the anxiety over their still missing Father came back full force.  Raging against everyone for simply sitting around, he tore into his beloved punching bag with his sai.

            At that point Leo had to agree that they needed a new approach.  The physical search that ensued proved to be as fruitless as all of their other efforts, but it did lead to a decision to attempt to reach the Guardians.

            Tracking the Guardians and breaking into the TCRI building led them on a series of adventures that helped to explain something of their origins.  It also took them to another planet, into captivity and enslavement, back to their world to be reunited with Master Splinter, into a dimension where the past became all too real, and finally back to their own world and timeline.

            It also brought them face to face with the Shredder, resurrected and hungry for revenge.

            Through luck and skill, the Hamato clan escaped the TCRI building just before it was completely destroyed.  They were all extremely happy that the Shredder had apparently finally met his end as well.  It appeared they had come full circle.

            April, on the other hand, was bereft of both home and livelihood.  With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, the turtles adopted ‘sister’ moved in with them.

            After several long minutes of discussion and argument, Master Splinter held up a hand to signal for silence.  Casey had taken April out to purchase some necessities and the family was trying to decide which room would belong to her during her stay.

            “Miss O’Neill will move into Michelangelo’s room.  It is large and closest to the bathroom, something I believe to be of major importance to women,” Master Splinter announced decisively.

            Mikey’s face fell.  “Bah.  That means I have to double up with someone,” Mikey said despondently.  “I need room for my comics, and both my skateboards, and my basketball hoop and  . . . .”

            “You do not need to move all of your belongings, Michelangelo,” Master Splinter interrupted before Mikey’s list grew too long.  “I am sure Miss O’Neill will allow you access to your possessions if you require something.  I do expect you to have your things organized and the room clean before she returns with Mr. Jones.”

            “That’s a tall order,” Don murmured, drawing a chuckle from Raph and a dirty look from Mikey.

            “I am sure it will be easier when you pitch in to help, Donatello,” Master Splinter said.

            Don rubbed a hand over his face, but nodded without saying anything further.

            “I’ll be more than happy to allow Mikey to share my room,” Leo said quickly.  “My bed is large enough for two.”

            Raph turned his focus on his older brother.  Leo’s face was as unreadable as always, but Raph didn’t need to see the emotion to know it was there.  Throughout the previous months of adventures there had been no opportunities for anyone in their family to explore the concept of changing their relationships as brothers.

            That didn’t mean the idea or desire had disappeared; it had simply been pushed aside as more urgent matters intervened.  Now that things were returning to something more closely resembling normalcy for the family, Leo was moving towards the goal he had already outlined a long while back when he and Raph were forging a new set of swords together.

            Raph hadn’t liked what Leo was proposing then and he liked it less now.  Those months of facing hardship and death together had given Raph a new insight into his kid brother.  The thing he noticed more than anything else was that Mikey was absolutely the brightest and warmest of the four of them.

            Michelangelo did not let anything get him down; he did not succumb to depression or feelings of hopelessness as sometimes gripped the older three.  Mikey laughed at danger, made jokes when others felt lost and managed to turn the worst situation into a game.  His ability to play when things seemed dire had pulled them through any number of tough spots.

            Hearing Leo make his first strategic move towards acquiring Mikey as his own fired up Raph’s competitive nature.

            “Mikey can bunk with me,” Raph interposed quickly.  “My room’s right next ta his and it’ll be easier for him ta get ta his stuff when he wants it.  My beds up high and he can have the whole floor ta bed down on.”

            Leo’s narrowed eyes told Raph that his older brother understood exactly what Raph was trying to do.

            Master Splinter watched the tableau play out before him with curiosity.  Something he was not aware of was happening between his children and he was determined to attempt to try to understand it.

            Leonardo’s offer to allow Michelangelo to share his room had set off a chain reaction of emotions for Master Splinter to read.  Michelangelo had looked alarmed before hiding behind a smile, Raphael had stiffened before offering a counter proposal, and Donatello had gone from amused to wary with alarming speed.

            “Mikey, you can always move in with me,” Don offered in his gentle way, his eyes fixed on Michelangelo’s face.

            Raph saw the flush creep up Mikey’s neck and turned his head slowly to contemplate the genius.  Don’s eyes had the same unwavering look in them that they got when totally entranced by something.  The fact that they were directed at Mikey and that Mikey was reacting to the look with apparent embarrassment made Raph wonder if his competition with Leo had made him miss an even bigger threat.

            “’Sup ta ya’ Mikey,” Raph said, shrugging with apparent nonchalance.  “I don’t care one way or the other.”

            The one advantage Raph had over the other two was in understanding Mikey.  His kid brother didn’t like to feel pressured.

            “I’ll stay with Raph,” Mikey responded quickly, before either of the other two could make another offer.  “I’m used to sleeping with him anyway, even if he does snore like a freight train.”

            “Okay Mikey,” Don said in an offhanded manner.  “Come on; let’s go clean up your room before April gets back.”

            Whatever feeling had caused Mikey’s cheeks to redden at Don’s earlier offer was now gone; the youngest jumping to grab the genius’ arm and half drag him upstairs.  Raph had noticed that those two had been spending more time together but hadn’t thought much of that fact.  He made a mental note to start paying attention.

            Turning, he caught Leo’s eye.  His older brother’s lips curved into a small smile and Leo tipped his head in Raph’s direction; a concession that Raph had won this round.  It also promised that the battle wasn’t over.

            Master Splinter watched his two highly competitive children separate and once more wondered what was playing out between them.  He wasn’t so old that he couldn’t feel the supercharged sexuality that had begun to hang in the air around all of the boys; they were at an age where that was to be expected.

            When they were younger, Master Splinter had worked hard to redirect his two youngest son’s interests away from the course their Father feared they might be taking.  Now that he thought about those years and the questions his children had raised to him, Master Splinter realized that he could no longer dodge the inevitable.

            Pure instinct would demand they become sexually active, and unless nature provided them with a sudden miracle, his children had nowhere to turn except among themselves.  Master Splinter played his mind over the occurrence of moments ago and knew his boys had already figured that out.

            Whenever Raph needed to blow off steam or really concentrate on a problem, he turned to his punching bag.  Battered and covered with duct tape, it provided comfort to a body that required almost constant action.  Letting his frustrations well up from the deepest regions of his soul, Raph purged them through his fists, striking the bag repeatedly and sometimes for hours.

            Now Raph worked his muscles hard, letting the sweat drench him as he tried to understand his own mind.  He had spent hours with Casey and had listened to his friend talk endlessly about women, recently mostly about April.

            The way Casey described relationships made Raphael yearn for one of his own and he was sure he was meant to emulate his best friend in having that kind of bond with a woman.  But beyond the fact that it was probably damn near impossible for him to find a woman who would accept a mutated turtle, Raph was discovering he couldn’t even manage to day dream about it properly.

            Every time Raph tried to build a romantic story in his head, the interlude between he and Mikey on the couch kept coming back to him.  Mikey’s mouth had looked so inviting; his warmth and his scent still clung to Raph’s senses, even after all this time.

            Raph felt like an addict; drawn to something he wasn’t supposed to have yet unable to leave it alone.  Not only that, but Raph finally had to admit to a certain level of jealousy at the fact that Leo and now apparently Donatello were also captivated by Michelangelo.

            Hours later April was officially a member of their household and Mikey had moved into Raph’s room.  The outside world had shut down for the night and so had the lair; April was asleep and their home was in darkness.

            Raph lay in his bunk but couldn’t sleep.  Mikey hadn’t come to bed; the last time Raph had seen his little brother he was watching television.

            After tossing and turning for another half hour, Raph got up and went downstairs.  Sure enough, the televisions were still on although the sound was turned down in deference to Master Splinter and April.

            There was no light on under Donatello’s lab door so Raph figured the genius had retired for the night, and since the dojo was also in darkness, Raph concluded that Leo had done so as well.

            Just as he thought, Mikey was sprawled on the couch, his carapace against one arm and his feet stretched out as he stared at a commercial.  Raph stood in the darkness for a moment and studied his little brother, noticing that Mikey looked a little tired.

            Stepping into the dim light, Raph said, “Hey Mikey.”

            Mikey turned his head and blinked, his blank expression unchanged as he responded, “Hey Raph.”

            Raph walked over and sat on the other end of the couch, almost touching Mikey’s feet.

            “Ya’ okay bro’?” Raph asked.

            Mikey turned back towards the television.  “Yep.”

            Raph scratched his cheek.  “Comin’ ta bed soon?”

            Mikey glanced at him again and nodded.  “I wasn’t super sleepy yet, but I’m getting there.  It just feels kinda weird having April living with us, you know?”

            “Yeah.  Never thought we’d have any kind of close contact with humans, much less have one living with us.  Gotta admit she’s one of the best things that ever happened ta us though,” Raph said.

            “That’s true,” Mikey conceded and then grinned.  “Even if she did take over my room.”

            “Aw, that’s just ‘til she can figure something out.  Much as we love it here, I don’t think it’ll suit her ta live in the sewers for very long,” Raph told him.

            “After all we’ve been through in the last few months, I’m sure glad to be home,” Mikey said.

            “Couple times there, I wasn’t sure we’d ever see Earth again,” Raph said with a chuckle.

            Mikey perked up.  None of them had talked much about their adventures and he sensed an opportunity in Raph’s apparent mellow attitude.

            The two of them talked for over an hour, skipping around from one thing to another, laughing and reminiscing as they recalled recent events.  It felt good to both of them to be able to talk about all that had occurred; it seemed to purge the nightmare qualities of some of their adventures.

            Raph was laughing as they came around to the scene in the Spaceport Inn when they had tried to disguise themselves and the only thing Mikey could find to wear was a dress.

            “Ya’ had yourself a boyfriend there Mikey,” Raph said, his face convulsed with humor.  “That alien thought ya’ were the hottest thing he’d seen in a long time.”

            Mikey’s eyes were crinkled in humor as he sat forward and tapped Raph’s knee.  “I was the hottest thing in that whole _building_ I’ll have you know,” he corrected his big brother.  “A truly confident and attractive guy can pull off any kind of a look.”

            Raph’s head turned towards his brother, intent on making a sarcastic comment, when he noticed how close Mikey was.

            Sobering suddenly, Raph stared into Mikey’s blue eyes.  “Ya’ know what Mike?  Ya’ are all of those things and more, only I’m the idiot who hasn’t been paying attention.”

            Before Mikey could move, Raph leaned closer and kissed him.

            The kiss was quick; more of a soft brushing of lips, but the effect on Raph was electrifying.  Every one of his senses suddenly honed in on his little brother; Raph’s world filled with the sight, feel, scent and aura of Michelangelo.

            An overwhelming desire for more was Raph’s only rational thought as he moved forward for another kiss.

            In an almost exact re-enactment of what had happened between them before, Mikey leaped off of the couch and away from Raphael.

            “M . . . Mikey?” Raph asked, bewildered by his brother’s sudden flight.

            “I’m not stupid Raph,” Mikey said with cold deliberation.  “I know you haven’t really thought about this the way I have, and I know you’ll get mad later and regret anything that happens.”

            Raph stood up slowly, his eyes fixed on Mikey’s.  “Okay, I’ll admit I don’t understand everything yet, but that don’t mean I don’t want ta try.  Shit Mikey, ya’ and me, we’ve got history between us.  We always been together and we always been close.  I think I know how ya’ feel about me and maybe . . . well, maybe I want ta explore that a little.”

            “Explore is what you do when you’re bored and you’re looking for some excitement, Raph,” Mikey told him.  “I picture something a whole lot more meaningful.  What I want involves gay incest and I’m sorry I have to be so brutal about saying it that way.  When you have your mind completely wrapped around that concept and you aren’t just reacting to your hormones, let me know.  I’m going to bed.”

            Without a backwards glance, Mikey walked past him and dashed up the stairs.  Raph watched him go without saying another word.  His mind was racing; feelings of anger, bewilderment and jealousy tumbling over themselves.

            Mikey reached the top of the stairs and slowed to a walk, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.  Heart beating fast, he tried to come to terms with how mixed up he felt.

            Raph had finally kissed him.  The brother he loved so passionately, and who had told him he wasn’t interested in the kind of relationship that Mikey wanted with him, had come out of left field and kissed him.

            The thing he’d been longing for almost his entire life had just happened, and here Mikey was running away from it.  As much as he wanted to see how far Raph would go, Mikey just couldn’t follow through.  He didn’t want the confused Raph that still wasn’t sure about sharing a new kind of life with Mikey; he wanted a Raphael who loved him with the same kind of fierceness that Mikey felt.

            Stopping before he reached Raph’s room, Mikey leaned against the wall, his head down and eyes closed.

            “I was hoping for a minute alone with you,” a soft, smooth voice flowed out of the darkness in front of him.

            Mikey’s eyes snapped open and an involuntary shudder ran over his frame as Leo seemed to glide towards him.  None of what they’d been through over the past few months had been in this particular context, and Mikey had almost managed to forget the evening that Leo had appeared in his room with what could only be taken as a proposition.

            His older brother’s offer to share a room had brought the memory back and Mikey was sure he had managed to adroitly dodge the implication.  He should have known that Leonardo wouldn’t retreat from a challenge.

            “I’m kinda tired, Leo,” Mikey said quickly.  “Could it wait for morning?”  In his mind he added, _“When the others are around.”_

            Leo’s gaze didn’t waver as he stepped within arm’s reach of Mikey.  “No.  I wasn’t trying to listen to your conversation with Raphael just now, but the tone of your voices caught my attention.  You know you have other options if sleeping in Raph’s room is going to become awkward.”

            Mikey shook his head.  “We’re fine Leo, honest.  Raph and I argue and then we get over it.  It wasn’t important anyway.”

            Leo inched closer and his hand came out to touch Mikey’s bicep, his fingertips lingering.

            “When I say I wasn’t trying to listen that doesn’t mean I didn’t hear some of what was said,” Leo told him.  “When I told you before that I would always be here for you Mikey, I meant that I would like to give you what Raph can’t.”

            “Leo, I d . . . don’t . . . .” Mikey began.

            Leo had both of Mikey’s biceps in his hands, the grip solid and forceful.  His amber eyes were searching Mikey’s, refusing to allow his little brother to look away.

            “Raphael is confused right now, but he embraces Casey’s world, Michelangelo,” Leo said in a low, deep voice.  “Men like that don’t accept homosexuality or incest.  But you and I know that those things are our only options for happiness.  We need each other; we are all we’ll ever have.  This is what being family means for us Mikey.  Share it with me.”

            Mikey flicked his tongue over his bottom lip.  Leo’s words were burning in his head; his oldest brother’s heat coming off of him in waves and carrying with it the heady scent of Leo himself.

            Hearing Leo draw in a quick intake of breath, Mikey watched transfixed as Leo’s mouth moved towards his.

            “Leo?  Mikey?”  Don’s voice pulled Leo’s head around.

            As Donatello stepped out of his room, Leo released Mikey and moved back away from him.

            “Yes, Don,” Leo said.  “Is something wrong?  I thought we were being quiet; did we wake you?”

            “I wasn’t quite asleep and I heard whispering.  I got worried that someone needed me and was afraid to wake me up,” Don told him.

            “Nah, we were just saying good-night,” Mikey said.  “In fact, I’m dead tired and going to bed now.  ‘Night you two.”

            “Good-night Mikey,” Don said softly as Mikey practically dove into Raph’s room.

            Leo turned to watch him.  After a moment he felt eyes on him and turned back around to find Don staring at him, his expression knowing.

            Walking towards his intelligent sibling, Leo asked, “Something you want to share?”

            Don smiled slightly.  “That’s not quite like asking if I _need_ to talk, but it certainly is close.”

            Leo stopped just in front of him.  “So you’ve gotten Mikey to tell you some things.  Exactly how much I wonder?”

            Seeing no point in beating around the bush, Don said, “That he wants Raph and you want him.  Raph is having an identity crises, but I think with time he’ll come to acknowledge his own biological imperative.  What I’m curious to know is how far and to what degree you’ll push for your own desires.”

            “Worried that I’ll force myself on Mikey?” Leo asked without expression.

            Don shook his head.  “No, you’re far too honorable for that.  But he’s confused and hurt, Leo.  I think you could take advantage of that without meaning to just because of the way your mind has been trained to look for weaknesses.  I really just wanted to call that to your attention.”

            Leo frowned.  “Am I using battlefield tactics on my own family, Don?”

            “I think you could, maybe not on purpose.  How badly do you want him, Leo?” Don asked.

            Leo didn’t say anything and after a moment, Don nodded.  “Mikey seems to have quite a pull, albeit unknowingly.”

            His brother’s head jerked up.  “You to Donatello?”

            Don smiled.  “I’m not immune, if that’s what you’re asking.  I seem to be afflicted by the same desire Mikey has as well, a penchant for a certain hot headed sibling.”

            “The strength of their emotions has a certain allure,” Leo said, almost to himself.

            Don’s head tilted to the side.  “So Raph’s getting under your skin too?”

            Leo’s eyes met his, the amber warm and alive.

            “Is this something we should try to overcome Donny?” Leo asked.

            “Do you want to know if contemplating incest is wrong?” Don countered.  “If we were human I might say yes, but since we aren’t, and considering numerous other factors, I’d have to tell you I’ve concluded that we haven’t a choice.  Make of that what you will, but I saw how you were looking at Michelangelo and I don’t think my answer really matters all that much, does it?”

            Leo’s head slowly lowered, but his eyes remained fixed on Don’s.  Taking a step closer to Don put him inside the shadow of one of the lairs giant pillars. 

            Even with his eyes directly on Leo, it seemed as though his brother melted into the darkness.  A shiver ran over Donatello’s spine; he had seen his sibling perform this feat a hundred times, yet it never failed to thrill him.

            Leo’s voice was suddenly coming from directly behind him, close against his body as Don stood just outside of the darkness of his own room.

            “Your answers always matter Donny,” Leo whispered, the deeper tone a touch of velvet on Don’s neck.  “Shall I tell you how Mikey isn’t the only brother who affects me?”

            Don’s eyes half closed as he unconsciously leaned back towards the sensual caress of Leo’s voice.

            “Are you going to p . . . play games with me now, Leo?” Don asked; his voice hoarse with a surge of adrenalin.

            “You know me better than that Don,” Leo husked, his hands on the edges of Don’s shell as he guided his brother back into the bedroom.

            “Leo?” Don could manage no more than that, barely able to breathe as the darkness surrounded him.

            “I never play,” Leo said.

TBC……..


	16. Part 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 3,617  
> Rated: R adult concepts/situations, suggestive behavior, TCest, language  
> Summary: Leo makes a bold move and opens up a lot of questions in Raph's mind. Raph begins to insist on answers from Michelangelo.  
> Pairings: Raph/Mikey, Leo/Don

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sexy preview image was created by the incomparable MsObscure from DeviantArt.  
> 

            _Heated breath on his neck_   . . . .

            Duck, block, counter, step back . . . .

            _Warm, sure hands gliding over his skin_   . . . .

            Leap, spin, kick, rotate . . . .

            _Low, guttural voice murmuring commands_   . . . .

            Twist, dodge, strike, alternate  . . . .

            _Whispers, soft and caressing in a darkened room_   . . . .

            Hands up, concentrate, focus . . . focus  . . . .

            _“Shh, quiet Donny.  Silence now; let me do this for you, for us.  New beginnings, sweet Donny.  It will be good; I’ll make it good.  Trust me Don, Don, Don  . . . .”_

            “Don!” Raph shouted again, shoving against his brother’s plastron and sending the genius sprawling.

            “Oof!”  Don hit the mat hard, the air rushing out of his lungs in a single hard breath.  Dazed, he stared up at the ceiling.

            “What the shell, Donny?  Where is your head this morning?  If I just wanted ta’ hit something, I could go after my punching bag.  We’re supposed ta be sparring!” Raph yelled at him.

            Across the room, Leo’s head turned at the sound of Raphael’s raised voice.  He and Master Splinter were working with Mikey on the latter’s split kick, but he had been keeping an eye on the other two as they sparred.

            “Excuse me sensei,” Leo said quietly and moved towards his brothers.

            Master Splinter observed the scene through narrowed eyes.  The scent around his blue and purple banded sons was different this morning.  Something in their family had changed; shifted irrevocably overnight, and he was biding his time until Leonardo chose to come to him as he knew the eldest would.

            Don blinked at Raph, who stood over him, hands clenched into fists.  He knew that Raph was more afraid of the fact that he’d nearly hurt Don than he was angry, but Raph _was_ mad nonetheless.

            Raph’s head jerked up as Leo joined them.  His older brother gave him a long, hard stare before turning his attention to Donatello.

            “You need to watch your balance, Donny.  If you don’t keep your weight evenly distributed, your strikes won’t have any power to them and you’ll end up like this too often,” Leo said mildly, reaching a hand down towards his brother.

            Don accepted the hand and was pulled to his feet.  Facing Leo, Don nodded and said, “I’m afraid my focus was off just a little.”

            Raph’s eyes darted between their faces and then swept down to note that their hands were still clasped together.  When he looked back up, he saw that the pair were staring deeply into one another’s eyes and a small darkening flush was spreading across Don’s cheeks.

            The scowl that Raph began to acquire caught Leo’s attention and he released Don’s hand.  When Leo turned to look into Don’s eyes once more, the two seemed to share some type of silent communication just before they both moved back towards Master Splinter.

            Raph remained where he was, his mind trying to sort through what he’d just observed.  Donatello, the scientist, the doctor, the analytical thinker had been blushing.  Raphael had never seen Don blush even though over the years he had seen Don handle some very delicate issues for their family.

            Master Splinter allowed Mikey to discontinue his practice kicks when he saw his two sons coming towards him.  Stepping forward to meet them and thus moving out of the range of the youngest son’s hearing, Master Splinter waited.

            The red banded turtle watched as Leo bent his head towards their Father’s and said something very quietly.  Master Splinter looked up at him, turned to include Donatello in the glance, and nodded.  All three of them left the dojo and entered Master Splinter’s room.

            Michelangelo bounced over to Raph, completely excited to find that their training session had ended early.  If Leo and Don’s strange behavior had been noticed by Mikey, the orange banded turtle certainly gave no indication of it.

            “Want some breakfast, Raph?  I’m cooking,” Mikey offered with a smile.

            “Yeah, sure,” Raph said, his eyes still turned toward his Father’s room.

            Mikey led the way to the kitchen with Raph trailing behind him.  When they had gotten up that morning, Raph found that Mikey was behaving as though nothing had happened between them the night before.  Raph was still clinging to some of his residual emotions and tended to be snappish, but Mikey brushed off his brutish behavior with a joke and a smile.

            “How about some eggs?” Mikey asked as Raph lowered himself into a chair that gave him a view of Master Splinter’s shoji.  “Tell me how you want them.”

            Raph shook his head.  “Why do you always ask that when ya’ know damn well you’re just gonna scramble them?”

            “Ha!  Maybe one day I’ll surprise you,” Mikey told him as he broke eggs into a pan.  As they plopped down on top of each other and swirled together, he grinned sheepishly.  “Uh, not today though.”

            Raph chuckled and then had a thought.  “Hey, where’s April?” he asked.  “I haven’t seen or heard her all morning.”

            “She’s probably still in the bathroom, dude.  She can stay in there, like _forever_.  I was really lucky I beat her to it this morning, ‘cause I really had to go and it was starting to get painful,” Mikey said.

            Rolling his eyes, Raph said, “TMI, Mikey.”

            Mikey was grinning.  “Well, you asked.”

            He reached for the salt and started telling Raph about the boxes of stuff April and Casey had salvaged from her burned shop.  Raph was only half listening; his attention centered on his Father’s room.  The rest of his family was still closeted in there, and Raph was growing more curious and concerned with each passing moment.

            Mikey set a plateful of eggs in front of his brother and then stood looking at him.  Raph didn’t notice; his golden eyes were wide, worried and unseeing.

            With a sigh, Mikey pulled back a chair and sat next to Raph.  He turned his head to see what Raph was staring at and then let his eyes drift back to his older brother.  Mikey hadn’t slept well the night before; his mind kept playing back the events that had occurred and he had mentally kicked himself a number of times for turning his back on Raph.

            He also wondered at himself for nearly kissing Leonardo.  What the shell was it about Leo that seemed to cast a spell over him whenever the two of them were alone?  He had never in his entire life entertained any kind of sexual notion about the oldest of his brothers; Leo simply seemed too unattainable.

            In fact, Mikey thought Leo spent most of his time being much too annoyed and frustrated with him to ever have those kinds of feelings for the youngest.  The first time Leo had come on to him had left Mikey in a state of shock.

            Last night before Raph finally came to bed, Mikey had sprawled in his own, wide awake.  In the dark quiet of Raph’s room, Mikey thought he could hear whispers coming from Donatello’s, just on the other side of the wall.  That Don’s earlier arrival had been a fortuitous happenstance didn’t change the fact that his purple banded brother had saved Mikey from making a big mistake with Leo.

            Mikey wanted his first real kiss to be from Raphael.  He wanted to be wrapped in his red banded brother’s strong arms, to stare into the warmth of those golden eyes, and to hear Raph’s deep, rumbling voice tell him that they would be together always.

            Sighing again, Mikey reached over and shoved the plate of eggs towards his brother.  Raph blinked and looked down at the food.

            “Oh, hey.  Um, thanks Mikey,” Raph said as he picked up a fork and stabbed a mouthful of the succulent, moist eggs.

            “Got any idea what they’re talking about?” Mikey asked.

            Raph shook his head, chewing slowly.  In spite of his curiosity over Leo’s strange behavior, Raph noticed how truly excellent the eggs tasted.

            “Wonder if it’s about last night,” Mikey said absently, lowering his chin onto one hand.

            Raph started to ask if Mikey was going to eat something when his younger brother’s words made him sit up.

            “About what from last night?” Raph asked, his fork frozen.  “Did something happen after we had our disagreement?”

            Mikey turned his eyes to Raph without moving his head.  “Sorta.  Don’t get all pissy, okay Raph?  Leo has sorta expressed an interest in, uh, pursuing things with me.  Last night he stopped me when I was going into your room and told me he heard our talk.  He wanted to  . . . um, to  . . . .”

            His voice trailed off at the look on Raph’s face.  The fork dropped with a clatter onto the plate, completely forgotten as Raph’s now flashing eyes engulfed Mikey in a wave of pure fire.

            “He wanted ta what?” Raph asked in a slow, clipped tone of voice.

            A quiver of excitement ran down Mikey’s spine, swiftly chased by another.  He had seen Raph get angry before, but this was different.  This was more like the way Raph became when one of their enemies came after Mikey; the raging tumultuous storm inside of his brother directed with earth shattering force at the person who dared to threaten the youngest.

            “What are you getting upset about anyway?” Mikey had to ask, even though his better judgment told him to leave it alone.  “If something happens between me and Leo, or even me and Donny, it doesn’t affect you.  Remember what you told me?  You aren’t gay and we’re just brothers.”

            Mikey’s tone was a little bitter with a sharp edge to it.  The words cut at Raph as he stared at his Michelangelo.  _His_ Mikey.  Not Leonardo’s and not Donatel . . . .

            In a flash Raph’s mind sorted through images of Donatello.  Don looking at him with soft eyes, Don always eager to help him, Don constantly presenting him with new things that had been built just for Raphael.  Then he saw how Don was always doing special things for Mikey as well and Raph remembered how much time Donatello had been spending with Mikey lately.

            Leaning across the table, Raph opened his mouth to demand an explanation and was interrupted by April’s voice floating down to them.

            “Hey guys, where is everybody?”  she asked.

            Just a moment later, the shoji opened and both Leo and Don stepped out.  Raph jumped out of his chair so quickly that it fell over with a thud.  He took four giant steps towards them and then stopped.

            Don turned his head and called up to April, “We’re having breakfast.”

            “Oh, okay.  I’ll be down in a few minutes,” April called back.

            Don turned back to Leo and Raph saw the smile that lit up the genius’ face.  Leo was staring into Don’s eyes, his own half smile both possessive and complacent.  Leo’s hand found Don’s and their fingers twisted together just before Leo leaned forward and brushed Don’s lips very quickly with his own.

            Moving his head back, Leo turned it towards the kitchen.  Don’s eyes were closed, his hand still clutching Leo’s as the eldest stared defiantly at Raphael.

            Raph felt a movement at his side and realized that Mikey had followed him.  As Raph watched, Leo’s eyes shifted from him to Mikey.

            The smile on Leo’s face broadened and his free hand lifted to beckon the youngest turtle.

            Hearing a quick gasp, Raph saw Mikey take a step forward.  It was too much.

            Raph grabbed Mikey’s arm and half-dragged his sputtering, protesting younger brother out of the lair and into the sewer tunnels.

            “What the shell, Raph?” Mikey burst out after they had walked a half mile in.

            He yanked his arm from Raph’s hard grasp and rubbed at the impression Raph’s fingers had left in his forearm as he tried to restore the circulation.  Mikey stared at the back of Raph’s head because his older brother was looking in the direction of their home, probably trying to make sure they hadn’t been followed.

            When Raph turned to him, Mikey jumped and stepped away.  Raph’s golden eyes were blazing.

            “Ya’ tell me right now what’s been going on between ya’ and Don, and don’t ya’ fuckin’ lie ta me ‘cause ya’ know I can tell,” Raph snapped in a heated tone.

            Mikey was starting to get fairly angry.  “What gives you the right to ask me anything, Raphael?  You aren’t the boss of me.”

            “Are ya’ seven again, Mikey?  Ya’ know damn well why I’m asking,” Raph fumed.  “Last night ya’ were right ta call me out on my feelings and I fuckin’ deserved ta have ya’ chew me out.  But I thought ya’ wanted me ta’ think about us being together.  Were ya’ just teasing me?  Do ya’ already have somethin’ going with Don?”

            “No!” Mikey nearly shouted.  Lowering his voice, he said, “Donny’s been really good to me; really helpful.  I get confused sometimes and it’s easier to talk to him than it is to hold everything inside.  You ought to know, Raph, you’ve certainly spent enough hours spilling your guts to Don.”

            Raph took a step towards Mikey, his finger jabbing the air in front of his brother’s face.

            “None of my conversations with Don ever made me blush Michelangelo,” Raph growled at his brother.  “Yesterday when Don offered ta share his room with ya’ I saw ya’ turn red.  Why?  What is it about sharing Don’s room makes ya’ get that flustered?”

            “Sharing Don’s bed,” Mikey snapped and then bit his lip.

            “Shit,” Raph said in a near whisper.  “Ya’ tell me Mikey.  Ya’ tell me or I swear I’ll go back in there and turn the genius upside down until the truth or half his brains run out of his head.”

            “I don’t think Leo will let you do that,” Mikey said in a half-hearted attempt at humor.

            “Fuck Leo,” Raph snarled.  “If he tries ta get between ya’ and me I’ll rip his dick off and shove it up his own ass.”

            “D . . . damn Raph,” Mikey stammered.  “Sick mental picture, dude.”

            “Answer my question,” Raph repeated, his eyes pinning Mikey in place.

            “Donny taught me how to masturbate, okay?  Maybe if you try you can embarrass me a little more,” Mikey said and then cleared his throat.

            “That ain’t all,” Raph told him, his mouth compressing into a thin line.

            Mikey shifted from foot to foot.  “’Course it is.”

            “Ya’ forget how well I know ya’ Michelangelo,” Raph said.  “Ya’ cleared your throat and that always means you’re trying ta keep something else from coming out.  Spill it.”

            “Why the hell should I?”  Mikey suddenly railed.  “It’s my own private business and none of yours.”

            Turning, Mikey started to storm off, madder than he’d ever been at Raph.  Before he’d managed to walk five feet, Raph lunged after him, gripping his arm tightly and spinning Mikey back around to face him.

            “You’re my business, Mikey,” Raph pressed his face close to his brother’s, his eyes practically searing Mikey’s.  “I made a promise to myself when we were little that I’d never let anything bad happen ta ya’.  I gotta know if I failed.”

            Raph’s voice had dropped to a hoarse monotone, the lack of emotion in it told Mikey more about the depth of Raph’s feelings than anything else could have.

            “Back at the farmhouse, when you were trying to help Leo get it together, Donny and me got really close.  I told him how I felt about you,” Mikey said.  “I think he was trying to help me and we kind of  . . .  kind of touched each other.  We didn’t do any more than that,” he rushed to say as Raph’s grip tightened.

            “Ya’ jerked each other off,” Raph translated, starting to shake despite his best efforts.

            “He was just trying to make me feel better and teach me how to make you happy in case you ever wanted to be with me,” Mikey insisted.

            Raph grabbed onto Mikey’s other arm.  “Ya’ been trying ta avoid being alone with him that way ever since, haven’t ya’?”  He didn’t wait for Mikey’s acknowledgment.  “Shit Mikey, ya’ can lie ta yourself if ya’ want, but I think ya’ know down deep that Don wants ta get with ya’.”

            “I think he wants to get with _you_ ,” Mikey corrected his brother.  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you Raphael.  He’s been giving you the eye ever since we were little.”

            Raph tilted his head back and laughed without much humor.  Bringing his eyes back to Mike’s, he said, “Ain’t we a pair.  The two most outgoing brothers in the family can’t manage ta sort out their feelings, but the shadow and the geek have already crossed the finish line.  Not only that, but they appear ta have gotten Master Splinter’s blessing.”

            “My feelings have never wavered,” Mikey said.  “You’ve never taken me seriously.”

            Searching Mikey’s eyes, Raph told him, “I’m taking ya’ seriously now Mike.”

            Another step put his chest against Mikey’s.  Both hands caressed Mikey’s arms as they lifted to grasp and tighten on his brother’s shoulders just before Raph pulled Mikey closer.

            Mikey’s hands came up to cup Raph’s elbows as he willingly turned his mouth up to his brother’s.  Their lips pressed together gently at first, then more forcefully as the intensity of what they were doing hit them.

            Moaning, Mikey released Raph’s elbows and scrabbled at his brother’s sides, finally getting a solid hold on the edges of Raph’s carapace.  As their plastron’s scraped together, Raph flicked his tongue across Mikey’s lips and his brother opened them immediately.

            Raph’s passion was greedy; his tongue snaked into Mikey’s mouth and began to ravish the interior, locking onto Mikey’s tongue ferociously.  Mikey’s head started to swim; the kiss was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.

            As much as Mikey wanted to give in to his passions, something was still eating at him.  Pushing against his brother, he broke their kiss and stepped back.

            “What is it?” Raph asked quickly, unwilling to lose the warmth of his brother’s body pressed against his own.

            “Raph, you’re not  . . . you’re not doing this ‘cause you think you’re protecting me from Leo and Donny are you?” Mikey asked.  “You said you made a promise to yourself to never let anything bad happen to me.  You aren’t trying to make love to me because you feel obligated by that promise, are you?”

            Raph took a deep breath, considering his words.  As many times as he had talked to Donatello, those conversations had been mostly a retelling of events.  Trying to find a way to describe what he was feeling had always been difficult for the red banded turtle.

            Finally he said, “Remember when we were kids and it was just the two of us?  Leo was always practicing and Don always had his head buried in a book.  But we had each other; ya’ had the imagination ta come up with games for us ta play and I wanted ta do nothing more than make ya happy.  That’s all I wanna do now, Mikey.  I wanna make ya’ happy.”

            “It doesn’t work that way now that we’re grown Raph.  I’m excited that you want to make me happy, but I need for this to make you happy too.  Otherwise it won’t last and that would hurt worse than not ever doing anything at all,” Mikey told him.

            “That’s the point I’m tryin’ ta make Mikey,” Raph said, his frustration making his voice hoarse.  “Makin’ ya’ happy does something ta me; it makes me feel strong and necessary.  No one else has ever managed ta make me feel needed.  I gotta be important ta somebody Mikey and I know I am ta ya’.  I might question that about someone else, but I’ve always been sure of how ya’ feel about me.”

            “Do you really mean that Raph?” Mikey asked hopefully.

            “Yeah, I do.”  Raph caught Mikey’s hand and squeezed it.  “I’ll prove it ta ya’.  Come on.”

            He started to pull Mikey back towards the lair.  Mikey dragged his feet a little, perplexed by Raph’s sudden shift from quixotic to determined.

            “What are you doing?” Mikey asked.

            “We,” Raph said, moving faster.  “We are gonna go talk ta Master Splinter about how we feel.  When we were kids he separated us and it didn’t feel right or fair ta me.  Now I understand why he did what he thought was the correct thing ta do, but it’s time for both of us ta explain ta him how we need ta be together.”

            “What if he doesn’t agree?” Mikey asked fearfully.

            “How can he say no ta us when he just got through saying yes ta Leo and Don?  Seems like Leo included ya’ into his little discussion with our Father and that’s presuming a bit too much.”

            Raph’s voice was purposeful and all Mikey could do was be pulled along by his brother’s resolve.

            He knew he should be ecstatic over Raph’s decision and excited about their new relationship, but Mikey was still worried.  Maybe it was his imagination, but Raph’s rant about their oldest brother sounded more like a continuation of their endless fight for dominance rather than a concern for Mikey’s place in Raph’s life.

            Mikey had already begun to feel like a yo-yo between his brothers, he certainly had no intention of becoming a pawn.

TBC……..


	17. Part 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 3,494  
> Rated: R - adult concepts/situations, suggestive behavior, TCest, language  
> Summary: Master Splinter is faced with his toughest situation yet in raising his children. Raph makes a poor decision and a horrible mistake.  
> Pairings: Raph/Mikey, Leo/Don

            Through the roughest of times, Master Splinter could always find both answers and solace in his meditation.

            He was desperate for those things now.  As the circle of candles glowed and flickered around his body, he worked to find the tranquility required to enable his mind to sift through the latest set of challenges presented to him by his children.

            Their confusion, desires, and pain were pulling at him too strongly.  His mind refused to lift to the necessary level of complete harmony.  It wanted instead to replay the words and images of the past several days.

_“Father, Donatello and I have forged a new beginning for ourselves and we hope for our brothers as well.  I would like your blessing in this decision.”_

            This from Leonardo, his eldest and the one chosen to be his successor.  He and his brother Donatello had approached their Father and asked to speak of important matters.  It had taken but one look at their faces for Master Splinter to understand what those matters were.

            Master Splinter was not surprised that Leonardo would be so completely forthright about the change in his relationship with one of his brothers.  What had surprised the aged Father was that it was not the pair of sons he had expected.

            Inhaling deeply of the incense that burned alongside the candles, Master Splinter realized that he had been waiting since his children were small for this day to come.  His best efforts to separate Raphael and Michelangelo had met with limited success.  Raphael had been willing to do as his Father asked and had not only distanced himself from his youngest brother, but had done the same with the rest of his family.

            It was very easy to second guess decisions after time had played its role and laid out a sequence of events for him to read.  Master Splinter saw now that Raphael had acceded to his Father’s wishes not because the boy had seen the logic in them, but because he was fighting for his Father’s recognition.

            Part of the reason Raphael was so hard to reach now was that he was still having his own internal battles over what could reasonably be considered as ‘right and wrong’.  There were too many influences in his passionate son’s life; he was like a wheel without a steering mechanism.

            Master Splinter’s discussion with Leonardo and Donatello had not taken much time.  After Leonardo’s opening statement, he had told his Father quite simply that the two boys had an intimate, physical relationship.

            When he had finished making that statement, Donatello had explained to Master Splinter his belief that they were drawn to each other through the simple expedience of necessity.  Although none of them was female, their hormones still called for a mate.  The mechanics of their mutation required that the mate have matching DNA.  Hence the strong mental and physical bond that the brothers had always shared.

            While extremely logical it still saddened Master Splinter that his sons would not be able to bond with someone outside of their family.  He could not argue Donatello’s rationale no matter what his own emotions were.

            So he had accepted their relationship and their choice.  He would not cause them pain by requiring that they wait until they were older; it made no sense to do so when the only reason for that would be to give them the opportunity to sample what else the world might have to offer.  The mutant turtles did not have that option.

            He had but one caveat to his acceptance of their decision.  They must never, under any circumstances, play favorites.

            Leonardo understood immediately what his Master was telling them.  He assured his Father that they were capable of treating each other as they always had, and that he was capable of leading his team without favoring Donatello over the others even in the midst of the harshest battles.

            Donatello offered a matching promise.  Master Splinter could see in their eyes the truth of their promises, but he also saw something else.

            When Leonardo and his brother glanced at each other and back to their Father, it was evident that they knew that Master Splinter realized there was more to be said.  His eldest son had met his Father’s eyes with a steady gaze before explaining further.

_“Father, both Donatello and I are likewise drawn to Raphael and Michelangelo.  We would like to pursue relationships with them as well, but only if they are willing.  Michelangelo has given Donatello to understand that he would like to be more than just a brother to Raphael.”_

            Leonardo had paused in his statement to look at Donatello.  His brother had nodded and Leonardo had continued.

_“Michelangelo and Donatello have experimented in a mild way and I have taken several opportunities to let Mikey know that I am interested in him.  He has responded favorably, but not with great enthusiasm.  I believe this is because of his intense devotion to Raph.”_

            Donatello had picked up the speech from that point.  _“Father, Raphael has not been overly receptive to Mikey’s advances.  I am sure this has a lot to do with the outside influences that Raph has been exposed to.  He has been told by the surface world that the kind of bond we are proposing is forbidden.  We hope to persuade him differently, but we won’t force the issue and we promise not to treat him as a lesser brother if he never accepts this type of bond.”_

            Leonardo took over again at that point. _“May we have your permission to approach Mikey and ask that he join us?  Our ultimate goal is to provide the physical comfort we require in an equally shared manner.  This solution guarantees that there will be no chance of favoritism, that all of us feel loved, and that we continue as we have done our entire lives in sharing  everything.”_

            Master Splinter had responded after several moments of contemplation.  “ _You must promise that under no circumstances will Raphael be made uncomfortable by your choices.  You must also promise that if Michelangelo continues in his steadfast devotion to Raphael you will not bring undue pressure on him to dissuade him from that choice.  I will not accept a change in the atmosphere of our home.”_

            They had both agreed with alacrity and Master Splinter had dismissed them.

            Now their Father was attempting to reconcile the choices his sons had made, the rules that he had himself issued, and the changes that would be forthcoming.  Considering what had transpired only three quarters of an hour later, Master Splinter could only sit and worry about where the road they were on now would take their family.

            Because not even an hour after his discussion with Leonardo and Donatello, an excited and agitated Raphael had requested an audience with his Father.  Michelangelo was standing beside his brother with wide eyes and a slightly haunted look.

            Raphael had a strong grip on Michelangelo’s arm and Master Splinter felt his youngest son’s reticence immediately.  Whereas Leonardo and Donatello had presented a united front; the two brightly banded boys did not.

            As soon as Master Splinter had settled his sons into kneeling positions before him, Raphael had rushed to speak.

_“We know why Leo and Don came ta talk ta ya’ sensei.  They wanna be together and were askin’ for your blessing.  Well, me and Mikey would like ta ask for the same.  We’ve been havin’ a tough time tryin’ ta work towards understanding each other, but Mikey . . .  he’s a lot smarter than me.  He’s known for a long time that we belong together._

_“I’ve been messed up in the head about this ‘cause I keep thinking maybe it ain’t right.  Ya’ told us that when we were little and I been hangin’ on ta that.  I see now that ya’ was guiding us the best way ya’ knew how, but the only thing ya’ had ta go by was humans.  I think maybe we gotta operate under our own set of rules.”_

            Master Splinter looked from Raphael to Michelangelo.  His youngest son’s eyes were downcast, a slight frown on his face.  Normally not the child to refrain from speech, Master Splinter decided that he needed to push for more information from Raphael.  Something in his third son’s reasoning or train of thought was not in accord with the youngest child’s and their Father was determined to get to the root of the problem.

_“Your brothers have indeed requested my blessing, Raphael.  They have informed me of their biological need for each other.  Donatello has explained to me that you are drawn to one another through the instinct of your species and that because there are only four of you in that species, it is only logical that your attraction is limited.”_

            Raphael had begun to nod partway through Master Splinter’s reply, his face indicating his intense concentration.  Michelangelo’s head was still bowed, but he turned it fractionally in order to watch his brother from the corner of his eye.

            Raph had rushed to speak again as soon as Master Splinter stopped.

_“That’s it exactly Master Splinter.  Me and Mikey need ta be together, and Leo needs ta be with Don.  Everything works out great that way.”_

            Master Splinter had watched as Mikey’s head jerked back into its original position.  His face was visible long enough for Master Splinter to see the look of pain that crossed his features.

            Deciding to push again in an attempt to get Michelangelo to say what was bothering him, Master Splinter had shared a bit more of his conversation with Leonardo and Donatello.

_“Leonardo believes that the four of you are meant to share your affections equally my son.  He and Donatello do not feel you are amenable to having the type of relationship with Michelangelo that you are expressing to me here.  They have suggested that Michelangelo is fully cognizant of their desires and would be a willing participant, but that you have your brother’s heart and therefore the ultimate control over his destiny.”_

            Master Splinter had watched as Raph’s fists clenched and his shoulders stiffened.  He had also seen that Michelangelo had begun to lift his head.

            Raph had finally burst out in a fairly heated tone of voice.

_“Father, I don’t know about all of that stuff Leo’s spouting; what I do know is he’s going after Mikey just ta’ keep him away from me.  He knows damn well I’ve been confused and he’s just press . . . “_

            Raphael had gotten no further before Michelangelo had finally interrupted, his blue eyes as icy as Master Splinter had ever seen them.

_“What has any of that got to do with you feeling needed by someone, Raph?  You told me you know you’re important to me; if you know that and it really means something to you, why would Leo’s ulterior motives make any difference to us?  If I really and truly have your heart like you have mine then you wouldn’t worry about what Leo’s trying to do because you’d know I couldn’t be moved by him.”_

            Raph had looked at his brother in complete surprise.

_“Shell Mikey, I do care about ya’; I always have.  It’s just that Don and Leo are both tryin’ ta move in on ya’ and steal your affections.”_

            Michelangelo had risen slowly, his body shaking.

_“You were so worried about them getting to me first that you haven’t really thought about my feelings at all.  You don’t even understand what it really means for us to be together do you?    It means we have sex ‘cause we love each other. It means happily ever after, ’til death do us part.  ”_

            Master Splinter had seen the edge of Raph’s anger and knew his son was going to say something rash, but their sensei was determined not to interfere.  He did not want his children to rush into anything for the wrong reasons, and the two before him were clearly misunderstanding each other.

_“Like we’re married, right Mikey?  Like that stupid fuckin’ game we played; only ya’ weren’t playing were ya’?  Ya’ decided way back then that I was gonna be your entertainment committee of one for life and ya’ ain’t ever let go of that notion.  That’s exactly what ya’ do too, ain’t it Mikey?  Push and beg until one of us gives up and gives ya’ what ya’ want.”_

            Michelangelo’s rage surpassed his brothers in that moment; Master Splinter had never seen his youngest son so upset by anything.

_“I knew that stuff you told me in the tunnel was a bunch of crap.  You just can’t stand to have Leo beat you at anything, including a fight for my affections, even if you don’t really want them.  I always knew you were willing to do anything to whip Leo, but that’s low even for you.  I could deal with you not wanting me like that, but I’m still your brother and I deserve some respect if for no other reason than that.”_

            Michelangelo had turned to bow to Master Splinter, saying, _“I’m sorry Father.  Raphael’s request does not extend to me.  Please excuse me.”_

            Master Splinter had watched as Michelangelo left the room with his back straight and his head high.  A few moments later, Raphael had muttered his own apology and had left not only his Father’s room, but the lair as well.

            The following days had been strained after that.  Raphael spent an inordinate amount of time topside with his human friend and Michelangelo settled into a routine that included giving all of his free time and attention to the entertainment media. 

            Master Splinter knew his youngest was attempting to escape reality by burying himself in his games or his comic books.  That Leonardo did not approach Michelangelo in any way other than for normal family business was a credit to his eldest; the leader was fully aware of the rift that had occurred in his younger brother’s relationship.

            Pushing his agenda on Michelangelo at this point would have left both Michelangelo and Raphael as mentally unstable parts of the team.  One of the things that Leonardo understood well was the dynamics of a strong squad.  The leader would wait for the wound to heal before offering his own proposal.

            Donatello’s time was occupied by his work with April O’Neill.  He and Miss O’Neill spent numerous hours together working on their computers and security devices.  Master Splinter was likewise pleased to note that nothing of his son’s new relationship was visible to their houseguest.  Miss O’Neill was completely unaware of the changes taking place around her.

            Master Splinter could see that eventually Michelangelo would be drawn by his need for family into forging a bond with the two older boys.  Leonardo was quiet, self-assured and steadfast; Donatello was gentle, confident and intelligent.  Between them they would know how to speak to Michelangelo’s needs.

            That was the thing which worried Master Splinter more than anything else.  He did not want his youngest child to feel as though he had to be a part of something with the older two if his heart was pulling him in another direction.

            Unfortunately, the centerpiece in his children’s drama was the son most capable of the greatest passions, the greatest anger, the greatest confusion and the greatest angst.  Raphael.  He was also the son most capable of distancing himself from all of them.

=====================================

            Time to go home.  Casey had already bugged out on him and Raph knew in a couple of hours people would be waking up and preparing for their day in the sunshine.

            Sunshine.  Raph frowned and stared at his bruised knuckles.  Tonight’s adventures would have been more satisfying if he had something, _someone_ , to go home to.  He had purposely been avoiding the lair and his brothers.

            Raphael knew he couldn’t go on this way forever.  Something inside of him was going to snap soon, shell, it might have already snapped if it weren’t for Casey making him maintain a somewhat level head when they were out together.

            He felt so damned jumbled up inside; all of his strong emotions fighting for dominance and they didn’t fucking ever stop fighting, even when he was swinging his fists in an attempt to release the incredible pent up energy.

            All those years together and the one thing he could always count on was Mikey.  Mikey was his rock; his foundation, Mikey kept him sane and happy.  Mikey made him feel content and necessary.  Mikey was Raph’s little bit of sunshine in the dark world of mutated ninja turtles.

            Raph had managed to fuck that up royally.  His stupidity and jealousy had eclipsed even Mikey’s never ending light.  His damn temper had made him say things to Mikey that were meant to cause as much damage as possible.  Raph might as well have just stuck his sai in Mikey’s heart.

            Now he wanted to fix everything and had no clue how to begin.  Everything he could think of to say sounded hollow even to his own ears.  Mikey believed that Raph was using him to jack with Leo and that Mikey himself meant less than nothing to his red banded brother.

            Raph looked up at the sky, watching the stars blink out one by one.  The tightness in his chest was matched perfectly by the one in his throat.  He’d had an epiphany during the night, a total understanding of something he’d been denying for years.

            He was completely, irrevocably in love with Michelangelo.

            Raphael and his little brother had continued to share Raph’s bedroom, but that was the only thing they were sharing.  Raph knew it was an uncomfortable dilemma for Mikey; he really had nowhere else to go.  Mikey was too wary of all of his brothers now, his trust in them gone.  Raph didn’t think he was even talking to Donatello anymore and that left Mikey with absolutely no one.

            Pulling his head down, Raph rubbed a calloused hand across his eyes, trying to clear them of the sudden film of moisture.  It was his job to keep Mikey safe and happy.  Mikey never forced that assignment on his older brother, Raph had taken that upon himself when they were all tots.

            He hadn’t lied when he told Mikey that he needed to be needed.  That was a fundamental truth about Raphael, it was the core of his psyche.  His battles in life to please his Father, to outdo Leonardo, to protect Mikey and Don, to wage war on the criminal element were all an attempt to find a place for himself.

            Now he understood that he had a place and a meaning.  He had been meant to share his life with Mikey ever since they were mutated.  That was Raphael’s glorious truth and he had maybe discovered it much too late to repair the damage he’d done.

            Raph knew that even if he could get Mikey to sit down and listen to him he didn’t have the right words to fix things.  He was more a creature of action; his inclination was to simply take Mikey in an effort to show him how much he meant to the red banded turtle.

            A quick smile crossed his lips when he thought about how well that idea would go over.  It was a whole lot easier to ‘take’ Mikey in a fantasy; in real life Raph could end up wearing his shell backwards.

            Words would have to be employed and Raph knew of only one person capable of helping him to not only use the correct ones, but to teach him to listen properly to the ones spoken to him.

            In order to recover his relationship with Michelangelo, Raphael was first going to have to patch up things between himself and Donatello.  That meant getting past Don’s watch dog.

            Raph had started to walk home; now he began to run.  For the first time in days he was eager to return to the lair.  He would get to Don without Leo’s interference and he would get Donatello to help him because he knew that Mikey was right when he said Don wanted Raph.  It was possible that Raph had always known.

            Eyes narrowed, Raph leaped from the rooftop to a fire escape and then to the alley below.  Dropping through a manhole into the sewers, Raph worked to formulate his own plan for the family’s future, one that included proving to Mikey that he was the most important thing in Raphael’s life.

            If Leo was willing to play with Mikey’s affections in order to further his goals, then Raph would show him how that was properly done.  He had an advantage; Mikey wasn’t a willing participant in Leo’s game, but Don had always been eager to help Raph in any way possible.

            Raph was going to give Donatello that chance.

TBC……..


	18. Part 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,612  
> Rated: R adult concepts/situations, suggestive behavior, TCest, language  
> Summary: One long sleepless night leads to very early morning confrontations.  
> Pairings: Raph/Don, Leo/Mikey

            “Donatello, we gotta talk,” said a deep, husky voice from somewhere behind the genius.

            Don’s head came up slowly.  He lifted a hand to remove his magnification goggles and then set the small tools he was holding on the table before turning around to see Raphael standing inside his lab.

            The door was closed and from where he sat, Don could see that the slide bolt had been engaged.

            “I forget that you can be as stealthy as Leo sometimes,” Don said mildly.  “Did he even see you come home?”

            Raph shook his head, his expression unfathomable.  “No, I made sure of that.  I ain’t in the mood for his interruptions.”

            “All right then, have a seat,” Don told him, waving towards the workbench.

            Reaching under it to grab a stool, Raph placed it close to his brother and sat down.  Don spun around in his battered office chair so that he was facing Raph.

            “I was gonna save this ‘til later ‘cause I didn’t expect anyone ta be up yet,” Raph said.  “But I saw your light was on so I figured now was better than later.”

            “You want my help in getting Mikey back,” Don stated.

            Startled by the abruptness of Don’s words, Raph leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

            “I guess we don’t call ya’ ‘genius’ for nothing,” Raph said.  “How come ya’ didn’t think I came in here ta beat your ass for touching Michelangelo?”

            Don smiled.  “Well, to start off with, your attitude was all wrong.  When you’re ready to pound some shell you’re a lot more rigid and you certainly wouldn’t have taken the seat I offered,” he explained.  “Plus, I know you Raph.  After all these years?  You’ve been out late every night for the last week and that usually means you are working through both emotional issues and a problem.”

            “Yeah, all right.  I can accept that.”  Raph flipped a hand up to wave the explanation away.  “I do wanna hear why ya’ felt it was necessary ta play ‘yank the wiener’ with Mikey.”

            Don blinked, his brow knitting as he tried to understand Raph’s request.

            “Oh,” he said as he remembered the interlude at the farmhouse.  “Can you tell me why our mutual exploration should concern you so much?  It was satisfying for both of us and I didn’t force myself on Michelangelo.”

            “No ya’ didn’t,” Raph acknowledged.  “Mikey gave me that little tidbit of info or else I probably would have come in here ta’ pound your skull.  I’m askin’ about it ‘cause he’s been avoiding being alone with ya’ ever since and he blushed when ya’ offered ta share your room with him.”

            Don tapped his fingers on the table.  Sometimes the genius’ hands were as active as his mind.

            “I would have thought the answer to that question would have been obvious.  Mikey is a very physical being and I’ve been trying to help him meet his needs.  The problem is I’m not the one he really wants that kind of assistance from.”  Don said.  “Some embarrassment is natural under those circumstances.”

            Raph was watching Don’s face like a hawk, but he was also observing his brother’s body language.  Maybe it was all the late nights and lack of sleep; Raph found that he was starting to see a lot of things much more clearly than he ever had.

            Rolling his chair a bit closer to Don’s, Raph said, “That’s what ya’ do for us, ain’t it Donny?  Help us when we need it?  Take care of us, give us things; offer your time and yourself? “

            Don’s smile widened a bit, as though he’d just caught on to something.  “What were you planning to do when you came in here, Raphael?  Seduce me?”

            “Yeah, I thought about it,” Raph admitted with a cocky grin of his own.  “But ya’d like that wouldn’t ya’?  Ya’ played with Mikey some, but ya’ could’ve gone farther; he sure was vulnerable enough.  Ya’ didn’t though; ya’ stopped short of going too far.  I gotta ask myself why?”

            The smile on Don’s face had faded and he squirmed in his chair, his fingers going completely still.

            “What are you driving at?” Don asked.

            “I ain’t the brightest candle in the box,” Raph said with a small shake of his head, “but I figured ya’ didn’t go farther with Mikey ‘cause ya’ don’t really like being the aggressor.  That’s why ya’ gave it up ta Leo so fast.”

            Don stared at his brother, his brown eyes shimmering.  “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

            Raph nodded.  “Ain’t had much else ta do.  See, I figured that ya’ got interested in Mikey the same as the rest of us did and his being kinda naïve gave ya’ the chance ta play with him a little.  Ya’ hoped ta encourage him ‘cause ya’ know how aggressive he can be about going after stuff he wants and that thought excited ya’.  Only it didn’t work out the way ya’ planned, ‘cause what Mikey wants is _me_.”

            “He isn’t the only one,” Don said slowly, his eyes never leaving Raph’s.

            “Yeah, I know that Donny,” Raph said, the gold in his eyes shining with a heat that was volcanic.  “I mean, I know that now.  That’s why you’re sitting in the lab instead of sharing Leo’s bed, ain’t it?  Ya’ used ta do that when we were kids; stayin’ up late when I was out.  Ya’ always tried ta pretend ya’ was working on something, but ya’ were waiting on me.  I could feel it when I came in ta talk ta ya’, I just didn’t understand anything back then.”

            Don shifted in his chair.  “I worried about you.”

            “Ya’ _wanted_ me,” Raph corrected, leaning closer.  He was pleased to see how quickly the color changed on Don’s neck.  

            “Leo saw the same things I was seeing, only he understood them a whole lot sooner.  All those years growing up together, ya’ doing everything for us; being everything for us.  Ya’ only ever wanted one thing in return and Leo finally figured it out and gave it ta ya’,” Raph said.

            Don stood up abruptly and Raph came off of his stool just as fast.

            “I do things for you because that’s my place  . . . .” Don began.

            “Shut up,” Raph growled.

            The flush on Donatello’s neck crept up to his face as Raph drew closer.

            “We all got a place, Donny.  I know that as well as ya’.  We all picked those places ‘cause it suited who we were,” Raph grabbed Don’s biceps quickly.  “Ya’ like for us ta’ tell ya’ what we want, don’t ya’ Donny?  Ya’ need for us ta do that ‘cause you’re a submissive.”

            “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Don said, trying to pull out of Raph’s grip.

            Raph pressed himself against Don.  “You’re a trained ninja Donatello.  Ya’ could get out of this if ya’ wanted ta.  Ya’ don’t wanna though ‘cause ya’ like it.  Ya’ like being dominated and ya’ like it rough.  That’s why ya’ always had a thing for me, ‘cause I’m as rough as they come.”

            “I’m with Leo,” Don told him.

            “Sure ya’ are,” Raph said and smashed his mouth against Don’s.

            Don struggled for all of a minute before his body melted against Raph’s and his mouth opened.  Raph flicked his tongue across Don’s, tasting him, and Donatello moaned.

            There was a wicked gleam in Raph’s eyes as he pulled back slightly, his lips moving against Don’s as he spoke.

            “That’s what ya’ always wanted, ain’t it Donny?  My mouth on yours, my arms holding ya’ so tight ya’ can barely breathe?  Tell me the truth and I’ll give ya’ more,” Raph husked, his voice deep and low.

            “Yes,” Don answered in one long, needy exhale.

            Raph’s cocky grin dominated his features for less than a second before his mouth fell hotly against his brother’s.

===========================

            Mikey hadn’t slept much even though he’d had Raph’s room all to himself for pretty much the entire night.  He should have been happy about that considering how awkward sharing the room had become.

            Finally giving up, he pulled a bunch of pillows around behind him and leaned his shell against them.  Reaching down next to his makeshift bed, Mikey retrieved his DSi and started to play some games, hoping they would at least take his mind off of his troubles.  It didn’t help when he remembered what Donatello had gone through to get this particular gaming system for Mikey.

            It hurt not being able to spend time with Don.  Donatello was the brother Mikey went to when he was confused, but now he didn’t trust anything Don might tell him.  It seemed that every past action was now tainted with ulterior motives.  Don wanted Raph and Mikey thought Don might have used his own youngest brother to try and get to the object of his desire.

            Mikey was fed up with being used.  If he couldn’t be with Raph the way he would like to be with him then that was fine.  He could learn to live with that.  It was all of the games his older brothers seemed to be playing that he couldn’t stand.

            Frowning at the hand held game, he didn’t notice that someone had stepped into the room until a shadow fell across the screen.

            Looking up quickly, he saw Leo standing over him.

            Mikey’s hands clenched around the game as he said, “Not in the mood for company, Leo.”

            Leo nodded as though he understood and then sank down onto his knees next to Michelangelo anyway.

            “You haven’t been in the mood for company in a few days, Mikey.  Master Splinter has started to become worried about you,” Leo said.

            “I guess he could have told me that himself, Leo.  I do show up for practice every day,” Mikey told him, somewhat belligerently.

            “Yes he could have, but he is expecting us to solve this particular problem ourselves,” Leo answered, completely unperturbed by Mikey’s attitude.  “If we are old enough to have the desires, we are certainly old enough to deal with them.”

            Mikey turned his attention back to his game.  “You sure figured out how to deal with yours, didn’t you?”

            Leo reached a hand out and wrapped it around the game, blocking the viewing screen.

            Mikey looked up, a glare starting to form in his blue eyes, but Leo’s words stopped it from blooming.

            “Did you want me first, Mikey?” Leo asked.

            “Wh . . . what?  No!”  Mikey stuttered.

            Leo’s small smile was whimsical.  “Yet it bothers you that Don and I have become lovers.”

            Momentarily surprised by Leo’s candor, Mikey forgot his brother had a solid hold on his game.  Before Mikey could regain his senses, Leo gently tugged the toy from his hands and set it out of reach.

            “I don’t care what the two of you do,” Mikey told him.  “Just leave me out of it.”

            “You don’t understand Mikey,” Leo said.  “We can’t leave you out.  You are much too important to all of us.  Don’t you know that?”

            “Funny ha, ha,” Mikey said sarcastically.  “The only thing important to you and Raph is whatever your latest fight is about.  All Don cares about is experimenting.”

            “You’re mad at Don because you think he was experimenting with you?” Leo asked.

            Mikey shrugged.  He didn’t want to have this conversation and the way Leo kept digging at him was making him uncomfortable anyway.

            “Donatello thinks the world of you Mikey,” Leo said.  “He has always made it his top priority to do anything in his power for you.  That’s a truth you must be able to see.”

            With nothing to hold onto, Mikey folded his arms over his plastron.  “You have to say that,” Mikey said.

            Leo still retained his slight smile as he reached out to tug at Mikey’s arms.  “Why must you be so defensive, little brother?  Tell me something; have I ever lied to you?”

            Mikey looked into Leo’s eyes and then quickly turned his head.  “No.”

            “And I never will,” Leo said.

            He had managed to pry Mikey’s arms apart and was still holding his brother’s forearms.  Sliding his hands up along Mikey’s biceps, Leo leaned forward, his eyes searching for the blue gaze that was attempting to elude him.

            Mikey twisted his upper body, his mouth twitching and his eyes searching for something to look at other than Leo’s face.  He pushed back against the pillows as Leo’s hands released their grip on him and pressed into the mattress on either side of Mikey’s shoulders.

            Leo’s breath was warm against Mikey’s face as he loomed over his younger brother.

            “Don and I have found something that is really good, Mikey.  Something that feels right.  It’s brought us closer than we’ve ever been and we want you to join us,” Leo whispered against his temple.

            Mikey shivered as Leo pressed a kiss to his face.  Turning his head to speak directly into Mikey’s ear, Leo rubbed his cheek against Mikey’s as he said, “None of us has to be alone, Mikey.  When you feel certain parts of your body waking up at night, don’t you want to have someone lying next to you so that you can share that experience?”

            “R . . . Raph,” Mikey said quietly.  “I want it to be Raph.  I th . . . think maybe you really do want to be with me, but I can’t do anything to upset Raph, even if I am mad at him.  I know he cares about me, he’s just confused  . . . I’m just confused.”

            Leo pulled his head back to look into his little brother’s warm and sincere eyes.

            “Mikey, this has never, ever been about a competition between Raphael and me,” Leo said. 

            “Maybe it doesn’t seem that way to you, but you  . . . you got Donny, and then you told Master Splinter you wanted me too.  How did you think that would make Raph feel?  Whatever you and Don say about no one being treated differently sounds really great, but that isn’t the way things would work out.  Raph would just be an outsider looking in; a stranger in his own family,” Mikey explained.

            “He’s home you know,” Leo said.

            Mikey’s eyes widened.  “You shouldn’t be in here.  He’s gonna come in and see you like this and all hell is gonna break loose.”

            Leo shook his head, bending down to touch a soft kiss to Mikey’s neck.

            “He isn’t coming in here.  Raph went into Don’s lab and locked the door,” he whispered ever so softly into Mikey’s ear.

            Mikey’s entire body stiffened, his hands curling into fists.  “When?” he asked from between gritted teeth.

            Leo leaned away from him, coming upright onto his knees.  “About ten minutes before I came in here.”

            “You should have told me right away,” Mikey said accusingly as he struggled past Leo so that he could stand up.

            “Why?” Leo asked, standing also.  “Don’t you want him to discover himself?”

            Mikey darted for the door, stopping long enough to answer, “Not like that.  He doesn’t understand what he’s doing.”

            If Leo had wanted to say anything more the opportunity was gone as Mikey raced out of the room and down the stairs.  Following at a more leisurely pace, he heard Mikey begin pounding on Donatello’s lab door, his frantic cries for them to open up echoing throughout the lair.

            Leo was smiling as he descended to the lower level.  Before he was within Mikey’s eyesight, he wiped the smile from his face.

TBC…….


	19. Part 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 2,157  
> Rated: R adult concepts/situations, suggestive behavior, TCest, language  
> Summary: Suspicion leads to questions, questions to revelations and discovery. But a mystery still exists.  
> Pairings: Raph/Don, Leo/Don, Raph/Mikey

            _“Take me, take me Raph.  Now, please . . . .”_

            Donatello thought he was saying those words aloud until he realized he couldn’t speak with Raphael’s tongue inside of his mouth.  Don churred instead, his body tingling as Raph roughly manhandled him, unworried about the bruises being left behind on olive green skin.

            Years of unfulfilled fantasy were finally coming true for the purple banded brother and since he couldn’t speak his wishes, he tried to let his hands do so for him.  Sliding them down along Raph’s exposed sides; Don flattened his palms on his brother’s hips and tugged on them.

            Raph shifted his stance in response and Don, encouraged by the movement, began to slide his thumbs inwards.  He was desperate to know if Raph’s arousal equaled his own and intent on relaying his need.

            Before his questing digits could reach their destination, Raphael broke the heady kiss and his hands dropped to catch Don’s wrists.

            “This part of the master plan, Donny?” Raph asked in a low, raspy voice.

            Don’s half shut eyelids lifted slightly as he tried to come up from the lust filled haze of mere seconds ago.

            “What   . . . ?” he slurred, unable to shift emotional gears as quickly as Raph.

            “Like I said, it takes me a while ta figure things out.  I’m just wondering if ya’ wanted me ta come on ta ya’.  Maybe Leo and ya’ worked this out in advance,” Raph said.

            “Seeing conspiracies?” Don asked, working to keep his body pressed against Raph’s.

            “Maybe,” Raph answered.  “Ya’ ain’t staying up ta wait for me the same way ya’ did when we were kids are ya’?  I think if Leo wanted ya’ all ta himself he wouldn’t allow it.  But you’d stay here ta wait for me if he told ya’ to.  Or maybe ya’ masterminded this on your own?”

            “Raph, listen to yourself,” Don argued hotly as Raph took a step back.

            “I am and I think I’m making a lot of sense,” Raph said.  “Ya’ know I belong ta Mikey; shell, ya’ probably knew it before I even did.  Well, I fucked up big time and I know that now.  I wanted ya’ ta help me understand what I have ta do ta get Mikey ta care about me again.  But I can figure some of the answer out on my own.  Whatever I can give, I gotta give it ta Mikey.”

            “Let me help you understand what you have to do for him,” Donny offered quickly, his hands out.

            Raph shook his head and smiled slightly.  “I know ya’ wanna go all the way with this Donny.  I can’t do that for ya’ ‘cause Mikey’s gonna be my first, if he’ll still have me.  What I want ta know right now is how much of this did ya’ work out in advance?  What did ya’ hope ta accomplish Donatello?  Was it just me ya’ were working on and were ya’ supposed ta be a diversion?  Where’s Leo, Donny?  Is he messing with my Mikey?”

            Just as the question left his mouth, they were both startled by a loud banging on the lab door.  Mikey’s strident calls came through with startling clarity.

            “Open this door Raphael!  You come out of there right now, right now!  Do you hear me?  Raph!  Raph!  Open this damn door!”

            With a last hard look at Donatello, Raph marched to the door and slid back the bolt.  His hand hadn’t made it to the handle before the door was flung open with such force only his lightning fast reflexes kept him from being hit.

            “What the shell, Mikey?”  Raph exclaimed as his little brother dove into the room.

            Mikey’s eyes darted from Raph to Donatello and back again.  Behind him, Leo strolled into the lab, his expression undecipherable.

            “Why are you locked in here with Donny?” Mikey demanded.

            “It sure ain’t for what ya’ seem ta be thinking,” Raph snapped, none too pleased with how closely Mike had been followed by their older brother.

            “Boys!”  Master Splinter’s voice caught the attention of all four.  “I am sure Miss O’Neill would appreciate not being awakened by your arguments.  Please save them for a more decent hour.”

            Leo stepped out of the lab and saw his Father standing in the open door of his room.

            “Yes Father,” Leo said.

            Mikey grabbed Raph’s arm, his grip like iron from years of holding his nunchucks.

            “Come with me,” Mikey said with determination, pulling Raph out of the lab.

            In an odd repetition of what had occurred several days previously, Mikey dragged Raphael from their lair and into the privacy of the underground sewer tunnels.

            Master Splinter watched them leave, his expression pensive.  His eyes turned towards his eldest son and were met by a strongly determined look.  Bowing his head slightly, Master Splinter stepped back into his room and closed the shoji.

            Don stared at Leo curiously when his brother returned to the lab.  Leo appeared to be quite pleased with himself as he closed the door and slid the bolt back into place.

            “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Don said quietly.

            Leo smiled at him, the look on his face softening as he met Don’s eyes.  “Having doubts now, Donny?”

            “I guess not,” Don told him.  “I’m just a bit churned up inside is all.”

            Leo walked over to him, grabbing Don’s belt and the knot on the back of his mask in one swift move.  Don’s gasp as Leo pulled him close was extremely satisfying.

            “Tell me about his kiss, Donatello,” Leo urged in a husky whisper.  “Was it as forceful as mine?  Did he excite you?”

            “I thought you weren’t competing,” Don whispered back, his head tilting at an inviting angle.

            Leo’s grin was predatory; hungry.  “I want this as much as you do; as much as Mikey does.  That’s the only thing I’m fighting for right now.”

            His lips hovered over Don’s for a second longer, then his mouth plunged down to drink the nectar his brother offered.  They pushed against each other, plastrons rasping in the near silence of early morning.

            Don’s churr grew louder as Leo shoved him back towards the cot and then down onto it, never breaking their kiss.  Leo parted Don’s thighs and moved between them before his mouth left Don’s to partake of the sweet taste of his neck.

            Eyes closed, Donatello fell into the ecstasy of Leo’s passion.

===========================

            “Mikey, slow down dammit,” Raph growled.

            He’d followed along without argument as Mikey tugged him into the damp tunnels, expecting his brother to stop as soon as they were out of sight of the lair.  But Mikey had kept going, twisting his way through passages as though someone had wound up his clock too tightly.

            Those were the first words either of them had said since leaving the lair and the effect on Mikey was instantaneous.  He came to an abrupt halt and released Raph’s arm, but didn’t turn to face his brother.  Instead, Mikey stood completely still for several moments, his heavy breathing lifting his carapace.

            The fast pace through the tunnels wasn’t enough to make either of them out of breath, so Raph knew Mikey was struggling to bring some emotion under control.  Afraid to say the wrong thing and ruin his first chance in days to be alone with Mikey, Raph kept his mouth shut and waited.

            “What were you trying to do Raphael?” Mikey finally asked, his back still turned towards his brother.  “Was that part of your competition with Leo, trying to take Don away from him?  Turnabouts fair play kind of thing?”

            “Maybe if all I cared about was beating Leo at something it might have been,” Raph said softly.  “Actually, I was hoping Don would tell me what’s been going on in Leo’s head.  And I kinda wanted his help ta figure how ta get into yours.”

            Mikey turned slowly then and faced his brother.  His blue eyes looked strained, the hurt in them tugging at Raph’s heart.

            “Being honest with me is a great way to start,” Mikey said.

            Raph shrugged, looking dejected.  “I was pretty sure I’d screwed up ta the point ya’ wouldn’t want ta listen ta anything I had ta say.  I figured you’d already written me off for good.”

            Mikey took a step towards him, his brow furrowed.  “Geez Raph, I may be mad as shell at you but I’m not giving up on you.  You’re still my best friend in the world even if you never want anything more.”

            Raph took a deep breath.  “That’s just the point, Mikey.  I do want something more and I want it with ya’,” Raph said.  “Master Splinter was the one who decided we were gonna be brothers and raised us that way, but I’ve started thinking maybe nature decided somethin’ else.  I don’t pretend ta understand everything Don’s been tryin’ ta explain, I just know what I feel.”

            “I thought you didn’t want to be gay,” Mikey said.

            Raph laughed shortly.  “Yeah, macho man.”  A corner of his mouth lifted.  “I kissed Donny back there and I did it of my own free will.  I didn’t do it ‘cause I was tryin’ ta steal Don from Leo either.  I kissed him because I suddenly realized how much he’s wanted me and the thought excited me.  I kissed him and I fuckin’ liked it.  But ya’ know what Mikey?  I didn’t love it, not the way I did when I kissed ya’.  I was tellin’ him that when ya’ started bangin’ on the door.”

            “You _kissed_ him?” Mikey asked, his expression unfathomable.

            “Yeah, I did.  Ya’ want me ta be honest with ya’, so I am.  And before ya’ start getting all pissed at me, might I remind ya’ that ya’ did let him jerk ya’ off,” Raph said.

            Mikey’s mouth opened and then closed again, reminding Raph a little of a perch he once saw swimming in a pond near Casey’s farmhouse.

            “I was banging on the door ‘cause Leo told me you were in there trying to discover yourself,” Mikey finally said.  “I was afraid you were gonna do something with Don and then hate yourself and him for it.  I couldn’t let that happen; if it had I knew I’d never be able to reach you.”

            “Ya’ didn’t have anything ta worry about Mikey,” Raph said, taking a chance and moving closer to his younger brother.  “I’m the one who put a stop ta that kiss.  I told Don that everything I have ta give belongs ta ya’.  And I meant every word.”

            With a suddenness that was all Michelangelo, the youngest launched himself at Raph like a guided missile.  Landing flush against the larger turtle, Mikey reached over Raph’s shoulders, grabbing the top edge of his carapace, and then kissed his surprised older brother.

            Raph’s arms automatically wrapped around Mikey as he deepened the kiss.  All of the things Raph hadn’t allowed himself to feel before were there now; the soft warmth of Mikey’s tongue, the rich scent of his little brother’s skin.  The flavor of Michelangelo’s mouth seeped into him, both bold and intoxicating it was a taste he knew he would never get enough of.

            Mikey’s churr joined the sounds of heavy breathing, gasps and the wet slide of their tongues.  The sound vibrated into Raph’s plastron and he smiled against Mikey’s mouth.

            Feeling the smile, Mikey broke the kiss, his face flushed with embarrassment.

            “Th . . . that was a ch . . . .” Mikey started to say before Raph interrupted him.

            “Churr,” Raph said, his voice deep and resonating with smugness.  “Don told me.  Means you’re gettin’ turned on.”

            “They feel awesome,” Mikey countered, grinning in spite of himself.

            With that, he pressed his mouth to Raph’s again, coaxing Raph’s tongue into an erotic dance.  Tilting his hips forward, Mikey rubbed his lower plastron against Raph’s.

            A deep rumble started up from Raphael’s chest and a long, rolling churr broke loose.

            Mikey tipped his head back and started to chuckle.  Raph blushed then, the color making his emerald green skin appear darker.

            Raph grabbed onto Mikey’s hips and pulled his brother forward again, repeating the move that had brought on his very first churr.  Mikey gasped and held onto his brother even tighter as life began to stir in his lower regions.

            “Let’s go home now, Mikey,” Raph husked against his brother’s mouth.  “April has training with Master Splinter in a little while and she won’t be upstairs.  We don’t have practice for hours so we can stay in bed the entire morning.  What do ya’ say, wanna share a bed with me again?”

            “Like when we were kids?” Mikey asked joyfully.

            Raph’s smile was slightly lecherous and Mikey’s heart started beating faster.

            “Well, not _exactly_ like when we were kids,” Raph said, his tone promising.

TBC…..


	20. Part 20 Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Word Count: 3,384  
> Rated: R adult concepts/situations, TCest, language  
> Summary: Raphael and Mikey find what they have been missing. Don asks for explanations.  
> Pairings: Raph/Mikey, Leo/Don

            Don lay curled against Leo’s side, his head pillowed on Leonardo’s shoulder.  The slight burn from their earlier encounter was settling into a mild and satisfying ache, one he hoped to enjoy on a regular basis.

            Although the lab was fairly sound-proofed, they’d both heard April greeting Master Splinter as she came to join him in the dojo.  They also heard Mikey’s voice as he shouted a morning greeting to the pair.  His voice had a lilt to it; a sound that always signified extreme happiness in their younger brother.

            Vaguely, just vaguely, they had heard the deep rumble of Raphael’s voice as well.  The tone was full and resonant; the sound a rare treat that was served only when Raph was truly happy.

            Since then they’d heard nothing.  Leo lay with his hands clasped behind his head, staring up at the ceiling with an enigmatic half smile on his face.  Don watched his leader’s expression for several long minutes, trying to read his thoughts.

            “Something Don?” Leo finally asked, aware of his younger brother’s scrutiny.

            “Do you think they’ve  . . . ?”  Don fell short of completing the sentence, a little afraid that giving voice to it would somehow lift the spell.

            “Yes, I do,” Leo answered, turning his head slightly so he could meet Don’s questioning eyes.

            “Leo, how did you know any of that would work?  So many things could have gone wrong,” Don said.  “How did you know Mikey wouldn’t be angry with Raph for kissing me?  How did you know Raph would come to me instead of going straight for your throat?”

            “Because I know you guys,” Leo told him, his gaze warm as he stared into Don’s eyes.  “I knew that Mikey would rush to save Raph from himself; that’s what he always does.  And he always forgives Raph too, no matter what stupid thing the hot head has said or done.”

            “It could have all blown up in your face,” Don said.  “This plan was so  . . . .”

            “Detailed?” Leo finished for him.  He laughed and said, “I’ve had years to develop it, Donny.  I saw before any of you did where Mikey’s infatuation with Raph would lead and I knew it was _right_.  But Master Splinter was in charge and we had to follow his orders.  When he made me leader it became my responsibility to make this a real team.  It was my choice how to best handle the biological changes and urges we were all having.  I decided the solution to both of those problems was for us to all be together as lovers.”

            “Fearless,” Don said somewhat dreamily.  “That’s how you earned that nickname.”

            Leo shifted a little, pulling a hand from beneath his head so that he could stroke Donatello’s cheek.

            “More like fearful,” Leo said seriously.  “If I hadn’t stepped in Raph never would have embraced his true feelings for Mikey.  You and I would have been together and I think Mikey would eventually have joined us.  But he wouldn’t have been happy.  He would spend his entire life wondering if his choice was what had pushed Raph further away.  Raph would have left us.  There would be no team and worst of all – no family.”

            “Exactly how long ago did you know how they really felt about each other?” Don asked.

            “I think ever since Mikey announced that he was Raph’s wife,” Leo said with a chuckle.  “I figured that had to have come from some game that Mikey had come up with and he’d talked Raph into playing.  Raph went along with it because he _wanted_ to play that particular game, although I doubt he really understood why.  Back then it was just another show of the possessiveness he’s always felt towards Michelangelo.”

            “But Raphael has always let it be known he was attracted to women,” Don said, trying to understand what it was that Leo had seen.  “He was the one who always had a porn stash full of naked females.  He’d always hang out late at night watching hookers and listening to Casey brag about past conquests.”

            “That was because Raph had the most contact with humans, Donny,” Leo told him.  “He let human society dictate what had to be normal for him.  He let them tell him he had to be a homophobe.  The conflict inside of him was just too great because his natural self is gay, just as we all are.  That we mutated into a life form that must of necessity seek each other out in order to copulate wasn’t a concept he was able to grasp.  Raphael was getting too many mixed signals.”

            “You’re telling me that these last couple of years you’ve been trying to get Raph to acknowledge his true self?” Don asked.  “Trying to get him to release his insecurities?”

            “Pretty much,” Leo answered, his hand exploring Don’s face, neck and shoulders.  “The funny thing about Raph is that if you want him to do something you tell him the opposite.  Of course, that only works if he really wanted to do it all along.  I knew that deep inside of that stubborn muscle-bound body was a real desire for Mikey, so I worked on letting him know it was okay for him to let Mikey go because I wanted our youngest brother for myself.”

            “That could have backfired,” Don insisted.

            Leo shook his head.  “Maybe if it was someone else pursuing Michelangelo, but it was _me,_ Don.  Raph really felt as though Mikey was his and that I was trying to come between them.  He still refused to accept that he felt that way about Mikey because he was in love with him, but it did push his thoughts more towards why I desired Mikey so much.  That made him see Mikey in a whole new light.”

            Don sat up a little so he could see Leo’s face more clearly.  “Master Splinter must have been working against you, Leo.  He went through a lot of effort when we were young to keep those two apart.”

            Leo sighed and watched his fingers idly sketch patterns on Donatello’s plastron.  “That was one of those mixed signals I was talking about.  Mikey was always so overt about his feelings for Raph that Master Splinter felt he had to step in and prevent an incestuous relationship from occurring.  That was the logical thing for him to do as a Father.  Master Splinter’s only frame of reference in the matters of the heart were human – Master Yoshi and Tang Shen.  He didn’t understand our mutation until you explained things to him.”

            “That’s why he was so accepting of us when we went to him,” Don said.

            “That and he knew I was trying to find a way to get past Raph’s resentment of me,” Leo said.  “He knew I was working on a plan of some sort and he started giving me insights into your personalities; things he knew about all of us from having raised us.  I don’t know that I could have foreseen all of your reactions if it weren’t for his assistance.”

            Don felt his face heat up when Leo said that.  “That’s embarrassing,” he muttered.

            Leo rolled over and raised up on his elbow so he could look directly into Don’s eyes.  “He told me that you like doing things for us Donny, not that you had a secret desire to be dominated in the bedroom.  I’m not sure he’d even know what that meant.  You know, I have watched you for a very long time Donatello.  I came to understand your desires pretty quickly.”

            Twining his fingers with Don’s, Leo leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his brother’s mouth.  Don’s shudder made Leo smile.

            “You are very special to us, to me, and not just because of your intellect,” Leo said quietly.  “It’s your personality, Donny.  You are the one who binds us together, the only one who is capable of producing tranquility in all three of us, despite the fact that our personalities differ so greatly.”

            Don’s brow wrinkled.  “What I don’t understand is why Mikey pushed Raph away at least twice.  I thought being with Raph was all Mikey ever truly wanted.”

            Leo studied the deep brown orbs that were mere inches from him, loving the depth of emotion he could see in them.

            “Mikey acts on instinct,” Leo explained.  “He understands motivations far better than any of us.  He knew Raphael wasn’t completely into him, even though Raph himself thought that he was.  Raph was still holding back his acceptance of the type of relationship Mikey wanted to have with him, and Raph’s anger at me gave the hot head something to cling to that he did understand.  Mikey took all those mixed signals to mean that Raph didn’t care for him at all.”

            “Poor Mikey,” Don murmured.  “He’s worked so hard to get Raph to love him and in the end he was left to think that Raph was playing some game with his feelings.”

            “Raph wasn’t trying to play with Mikey, he was just completely confused.  Part of him was still screaming that incest was terribly wrong,” Leo said.  “I saw that the only way to get to Raph was through those passions, through that aggression that makes him who he is.  Left to his own devices, he was never going to acknowledge his true desires.  He was firmly enmeshed in the idea that what we were doing was wrong and against nature; he was out of balance with his chi, his life force.”

            “Couldn’t we have brought Mikey into the plan?  He’s suffered a lot in the last couple of years,” Don asked, his compassion showing in his eyes.

            “No,” Leo said as he cupped Don’s chin.  “Mikey had to feel that turmoil for real; he had to feel vulnerable and stalked by me or Raph wouldn’t have sensed Mikey’s fears.  Raph made a promise to himself that he would always protect Mikey, so as long as Mikey was in some peril, Raph wasn’t going anywhere.”

            “But if Raph already felt protective of Mikey, why couldn’t he acknowledge how he really felt?”  Don lifted a hand to Leo’s bicep, letting his fingertips trace the line of hard muscle on his brother’s arm.

            Leo pulled Don closer, smiling again when he felt Don drape a leg over his hip.

            “Mikey couldn’t get past Raph’s barriers because no matter how much Raph loves Michelangelo, Mike isn’t at all submissive.  But I knew you could fire those sexual feelings in Raph, especially once he discovered that you had become sexually active with me,” Leo said.

            “The idea that I’m submissive did seem to break down his inhibitions,” Don acknowledged.

            “Raphael is a very dominate being and pushing his desires on you in an aggressive fashion made him embrace his sexuality.  Finding that he was responding to your obvious arousal made him finally realize who he really was,” Leo said.

            “When it came to him he pulled away from me,” Don said.  “He accused us of plotting to keep him away from Mike so you’d have an open field.  Raph didn’t know that he was the target all along.”

            “He was definitely the biggest hurdle,” Leo said.  “But make no mistake my sweet Donatello, Mikey is a prize I’d someday like to claim.”

            “You’re still determined to bring us all together?” Don asked.

            “I am,” Leo said, his grip tightening around Don.  “There are only the four of us and separating into pairs does not make for a balanced team.  Raph kissed you because he was attracted to you and that isn’t going to change.  You and I are both attracted to Raph and Mikey, and Mikey has been extremely pliable for you.  He’s also, despite a bit of trepidation, responded favorably to my advances.  The four of us sharing ourselves with each other is the ultimate goal.”

            “When?  Is there a timeline?”  Don shifted so that his plastron was against Leo’s.

            “Not really,” Leo said.  “We should maintain the status quo for a while.  Raph and Mikey need to become comfortable with their new relationship.  Are you impatient already Don?  Raph, Mikey and I are all very aggressive about our needs; does that thought excite you?”

            “That’s right, tease me,” Don said in a low voice, squirming against Leo so that his brother could feel his growing need.

            Leo slid a hand down to Don’s thigh and began stroking it.  “Don’t worry, Raph will come to you eventually.  Mikey likes the excitement of trying new things and he’ll talk Raph into it.  Mikey doesn’t see you as a threat; he has shared too much with you to ever view you in that light.  Raphael is very much an alpha male so it won’t take much for Mikey to bring the two of you together.”

            “You are also an alpha, Leonardo,” Donny whispered as Leo rolled him onto his carapace.  “How do you foresee getting together with Raph?”

            Leo nipped at his chin and Don tilted his head back so his brother could lick at the skin along his neck and collarbone.  Don’s legs opened automatically and Leo quickly clambered into the offered space.

            “You know how easily Mikey can talk Raph into anything.  They’ll enjoy Raph’s dominance for a while, but at some point, Mikey will coax him into catching while Mikey pitches,” Leo said, dipping a hand between Don’s thighs and catching hold of his wiggling tail.

            Don groaned with pleasure, beginning to lose the thread of their conversation.

            “B . . . but you and R . . .Raph,” he pressed, determined to understand how Leo planned to bring the two most dominate males in the lair together.

            “Once he’s bottomed for Mikey, it will be easy enough to maneuver him into that same position with me,” Leo grasp on Don’s tail tightened and Don’s hips lifted, his arousal presenting itself in all its hardened glory.

            “Le~o,” Don moaned, desperate for more.

            Leo’s mouth hovered over his as he whispered, “You should know by now that I always come out on top.”

===========================

            A final hard thrust and Raph’s seed began to flow into Michelangelo.  Mikey’s hands were wrapped tightly around Raph’s muscular forearms, his head back and his eyes barely open as he rode out the waves of delight coursing through his system.

            “You’re mine, Mikey.  All mine,” Raph whispered hoarsely, staring with wonder into the face that dominated a lifetime of his dreams.

            “Mmm,” Mikey moaned, “I like that Raphie.  Say it again.”

            Raph leaned down and caught Mikey’s lips with his own in spite of their heavy breathing.  The sweat on Mikey’s face rubbed onto Raph’s, carrying his scent along with it.  Basking in the intoxicating aroma, Raph wished he could wear it always.

            After several long and satisfying moments, necessity made Raph roll off of his little brother.  They lay side by side, their hands clasped between them as they worked to catch their breath.

            “I’m such an idiot,” Raph finally said.

            Mikey couldn’t help but grin.  “That’s a great opening, but only if you follow it up by saying how could you possibly have resisted me all these years.”

            Raph propped himself up on his elbow and stared into Mikey’s wide, blue eyes.  Try as he might, he couldn’t indulge in self-reproach while Mikey was looking at him with mild amusement.

            “Ya’ really can’t stay mad at me for long, can ya’?” Raph asked with awe.

            “Nope,” Mikey responded.  “Do you know why?”

            “’Cause ya’ love me?” Raph answered with a touch of his usual cockiness.

            Mikey laughed.  “Yeah, that too,” Mikey told him.  “But it’s also because I know you aren’t trying to be mean.  Mostly it’s your defense mechanism working overtime.”

            “Ya’ always did understand me better than anybody else,” Raph said.

            “That’s because you’re mine too, Raphie.  Forever and ever,” Mikey said softly.

            “Ya’ can skip the next part of that ‘cause ain’t nothin’ gonna ever keep us apart,” Raph told him.

            “You’re not gonna turn into a big old mushy teddy bear are you?” Mikey asked mischievously.

            Raph grinned and thumped him on top of his head.  “Just ‘cause ya’ got me body and soul don’t mean I’m gonna start letting ya’ get away with shit, Michelangelo.”

            Mikey’s laugh was cut off as Raph stole another kiss from him.  Mikey pressed his free hand against the back of Raph’s neck to keep him from moving too far away as their lips separated.

            “I love you ‘husband’,” Mikey said, somewhat breathlessly.

            Shaking his head, Raph couldn’t help but smile.  “I love ya’ too, ‘wife’.  Forever and ever.”

===========================

            Almost a month had passed since Leonardo had come to Master Splinter and asked for his blessing in allowing his sons to become lovers.

            Master Splinter strolled through the lair as it rested in its ‘nighttime’ mode.  He was at ease knowing all four of his children were safely ensconced inside their home, an occurrence that happened with pleasant regularity these days.

            Normal bickering and annoyances still brought excitement to their home on a frequent basis, but there was none of the underlying confusion and resentment from before.

            Entering his room, Master Splinter lit a handful of candles and settled down in front of them with a sigh.  Miss O’Neill would no longer be a member of their household in a few days and as much as he had enjoyed her company, he was happy to be returning to a bachelor abode.

            Master Splinter allowed himself a smile at the way things were turning out.  He was quite pleased with himself in having chosen Leonardo to be the team’s leader.  As he had noticed when Leonardo was quite young, the boy had a natural gift for strategy and level-headedness.

            His eldest son had shown great skill in the planning and execution of his long, drawn out campaign to bind his brothers together.  Leonardo had recognized the point at which he needed to gather more intelligence and had sought out his Father for the information.

            The presentation of his plan was succinct and addressed every point that Master Splinter could think to ask.  When his son had finished outlining what he meant to do, Master Splinter was left with only the one option; to help his eldest achieve his ultimate goal.

            Master Splinter had extracted the promise that when that goal was within sight, Leonardo would present himself with at least one of his brothers in order to make a formal request for permission to pursue a sexual relationship. 

            Master Splinter really had thought Raphael and Michelangelo would discover how much they needed each other on their own, but there Leonardo had proven to have a better insight into Raphael’s mind.

            Whatever Leonardo had done to bring his two youngest brothers together had left some residual resentment with Raphael, but Leonardo had maintained a calm attitude and eventually the animosity had faded.

            During that time, the Daimyo’s son had attacked Leonardo and issued a challenge that had forced their entire family to watch the eldest fight a battle for his life.  Something about that battle had brought out a fierce protectiveness in Raphael.  It had also summoned forth a swell of pride in his oldest brother as Raphael had watched Leonardo persevere and overcome his adversary.

            Since then Leonardo and Raphael had grown much closer, sharing long midnight runs and quiet conversations.  Master Splinter was most pleased that the enjoyment that they had felt in spending time together when they were young hadn’t been lost as they approached adulthood.

            Recently Master Splinter had noticed a subtle change in the way Casey Jones and April O’Neill behaved when in each other’s company.  Chuckling to himself, Master Splinter decided he would try his hand at bringing them together.  Being a Father was extremely satisfying, but being a matchmaker made him feel young again.

            Nodding at his plans, Master Splinter felt a deep sense of fulfillment and peace.  He had taken on the hardest job that life could offer, that of being a Father.  His one mission as he accepted that task was to see that his son’s grew up to be happy.

            Master Splinter felt that he had accomplished that.

THE END


End file.
